Breathing Underwater
by alegnax
Summary: For the Rollisi fans out there, the series continues! Sonny and Amanda's relationship progresses and of course, more heinous crimes ensue.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** This is the last of "this version" of Rollisi, unless I get requests for more (I'm sure I could drag this series out forever!). There will be a bunch of chapters for this story, though!

* * *

"... _happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Jesse, happy birthday to you!_ "

The chorus of voices filled the Long Island City apartment, which wasn't huge but it was larger than the place Amanda had lived in four months ago. The change was prompted by Sonny's recovery period: he had only planned to stay at Amanda's place for two weeks, but two weeks turned to three and three to four, then his belongings started creeping onto shelves and inside drawers, like he had lived there all along. Amanda couldn't even recall specifically asking Sonny to move in with her - it just happened, as if it simply should have been. With twice as many possessions and Jesse out of a crib, in September Amanda and Sonny made the joint decision to pack up her old place in exchange for a bigger walk-up. The two-bedroom was only three blocks away, in her same neighborhood, but it was still a welcomed change for Amanda. Her old apartment had too many ghosts: she never mentioned it to Sonny, but sometimes she swore she saw Jeff bleeding on that living room floor or woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, terrified that Kim had cleaned the place out again.

That Sunday afternoon, everyone had gathered for Jesse's third birthday party. Audrey, Kim, Liv, Noah, Lucy and Fin joined several of Amanda's girlfriends and their children, as well as Sonny's parents. Beth Anne had been in town for Christmas two weeks earlier but had left shortly after the holiday, which was an immense relief to Amanda. She could only tolerate her mother in small doses.

"C'mon, Jess, blow out the candles," Sonny coaxed the little girl from over Amanda's shoulder.

Amanda adjusted Jesse on her lap as she said, "I'll help you, ready? One, two, three..."

The candles on the garishly bright purple cake went out in one exhale, mostly Amanda's, but everybody cheered anyway. Jesse appeared very pleased with herself.

"I wanna lick the candles!" Noah shouted excitedly from Amanda's side. "Please," he added as an afterthought.

"I wanna rose!" Jesse whined, wiggling in her mother's lap, which then prompted the other kids to eagerly put in their requests for corner pieces and frosting flowers.

Controlled chaos ensued as the cake was cut and distributed, then presents were opened. Frannie chased around discarded wrapping paper and boxes while Jesse eagerly moved from gift to gift. The grand finale was a toddler-sized bicycle that Amanda had purchased her, complete with a basket on the front and streamers from the handles. Jesse had seen it in the window of a store months ago and had obsessed about it ever since.

The new toys provided hours of entertainment, which allowed the adults to drink and socialize while supervising the occasional petty squabble between children. Eventually, as afternoon melted into evening, guests began to make their exit. Once the last of the people trickled out, Jesse was crashing from too much stimulation and threatening a colossal tantrum. Anxious to avoid any hysterics after an otherwise wonderful day, Amanda hastily put her to bed while Sonny cleaned up the remnants of the party. When she emerged from Jesse's room, she found him perched on one of the bar stools lined along kitchen counter, sticking a fork in the last remaining piece of cake. The apartment was quiet now, the lights dim and the furniture all back in their rightful places.

"Ooh, gimme some of that," Amanda said excitedly to Sonny. She hadn't managed to snag a piece during the day.

His fork stopped halfway to his mouth. "What d'we say?"

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a lingering plastic fork, which she promptly dug into the cake in front of him. "You wanna know what the best part of today was?"

"Huh?"

"My mom went back to Atlanta before it happened," Amanda told him with a coy smirk.

"Real sweet, 'Manda," he remarked sarcastically.

"What, did you miss her?"

"She's always been nice to me," Sonny replied proudly.

She gave a little snort of laughter as she licked frosting off of her fork. "Don't flatter yourself, she's nice to any man."

Sonny heaved a dramatic sigh, leaning back in his chair. He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. "You are the most hard-headed person I know."

A grin broke across Amanda's features, like she took it as a compliment. With a little wave of her fork in his direction, she said, "that's why you love me, though, isn't it?"

His long arm stretched across her shoulders, pulling her in close to him. "Somethin' like that, yeah."

* * *

"All three vics are in their early thirties. They're all pretty, professional brunettes," Amanda told the squad as she hung up photos of the women she was describing.

"So he has a type," Fin said.

Amanda went on, "it's more than that, Fin. The stuff he does to them after he strangles them... he cleans them up. He poses them. He does their nails, brushes their hair."

"Weird," Fin concluded.

"Red nail polish," Liv added. "All of them."

"Classic," Sonny joked.

"I don't care if he gives them a French manicure. We have got to find this guy," Chief Dodds said sternly, arms folded across his chest as he eyed the bulletin board Amanda stood in front of. "Three rapes and two murders in less than four months. We've been running around like chickens with our heads cut off and not a single lead. This is unacceptable."

Amanda resisted the urge to roll her eyes, although she knew Liv would understand it if she did. As if they didn't know it was bad.

"Two murders? This last one survived?" Sonny asked curiously from his position perched on the edge of the table.

"Laura Gray, thirty one years old. She is _barely_ alive," Amanda explained grimly, pointing to the woman's photograph. "Like the others, she was strangled. She's in a coma. She was found last night, incapacitated in her own bath tub, only when the water started leakin' into the apartment downstairs." She continued eagerly before Dodds could protest, "I've been going through all of these girls' personal lives - family, friendships, romantic partners, colleagues... I'm doing the same with Laura. I have a feeling this guy knows them personally, somehow."

"A 'feeling'?" Dodds repeatedly skeptically, shaking his head. "Not good enough."

"Rollins has been on this case since the first attack, Chief. All of the families and friends have been immensely cooperative with her. If we're lucky, Laura wakes up and remembers something," Liv insisted.

Carisi added, " _If_ she wakes up. We all know what happens to the brain when it's deprived of oxygen-"

"Yes, Dr. Carisi, thank you," Liv interrupted curtly, clearly very aware of the chief's judgmental stare. She looked around at Fin, Amanda and Sonny. "No vacation, no leave, nothing until we get somewhere with this. I don't care about OT. And I expect you all to play nice with Homicide - we're all on the same team here."

Everyone nodded obediently.

"And: nice work, Rollins," Liv concluded before walking away.

Despite the gruesome context of the compliment, Amanda smiled like a child getting praise from a parent.

* * *

It was three in the morning and she couldn't sleep. Amanda had tried, but after an hour of tossing and turning, she couldn't stand to stew in her frustration any longer, especially not with Sonny snoring contentedly beside her. She tip-toed out into the living room, turned on a single light and pulled paperwork from her purse. She spread the files of the three victims across the coffee table, their glossy photos smiling up at her.

Cara Gerber, thirty years old, a paralegal at Alston and Bird law firm. She played tennis and volunteered with the ASPCA. Sydney Ryan, thirty-two years old, a child psychologist at New York Presbytarian Hospital. Originally from Charleston, South Carolina, she was bright and social with a twin brother named Gabriel. Then there was Laura, trapped somewhere between life and death, a pharmaceutical representative with record sales that year. Her tearful mother told Amanda about Laura's cat, Lily, and how years ago her talented daughter had gotten a scholarship to art school.

Amanda pulled the crime scene photos out next, her brow furrowing as she looked at them. They were all remarkably devoid of blood, almost nothing out of place. They looked like mannequins: Cara posed provocatively on her bed, Sydney gazing dead-eyed into her mirror at her vanity, Laura draped carefully in her bathtub, oblivious to the rising water. All of them had dark bruises staining the flesh of their neck, the marks standing out brightly against young skin. Amanda knew that this was personal, she just wasn't sure _how_ she was so certain. Yes, it was Criminology 101: death by strangulation often indicated a kind of intensity that could only be explained by an intimate relationship gone wrong. Who, though, would clean and pose these bodies after he had so cruelly drained the life from them? The strange tenderness in brushing their hair and painting their nails was a sharp contrast to the brutish way he killed them. Was the grim display for the shock value of whoever discovered them, or for the attacker himself? Did he take photographs or little souvenirs from the victims, did he get off on looking back at his special form of brutality? Or was the thrill over once the deed was done?

"What the hell are you doin'?"

Startled, she looked up to see Sonny standing in the living room, hair disheveled, hands in the pockets of his old, gray Mets hoodie.

"I'm working," Amanda explained.

"At three in the mornin'?" he asked incredulously.

"I can't sleep."

"I think that typically means you should work less."

"Don't start that."

"Start what?"

"That... coddling thing that you do," Amanda clarified with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Sonny gave her a pointed look.

"Sorry, I just..." She leaned back into the cushions of the couch, her nose scrunched. "I want to figure this out."

He dropped down next to her, rubbing his eyes. "I get it, Amanda, I do," he assured her. "It's not lookin' good."

"Liv's counting on me..." she mumbled.

"You don't have to try so hard with her, y'know. The past's the past."

She wordlessly chewed the skin around her thumb nail; she didn't necessarily believe him.

"C'mon. Y'know how you don't like wet towels on the bed? Well, I just decided I don't like dead people on the coffee table," Sonny said firmly, leaning forward and gathering up the photos to put them back in their folder. He stood up and looked at her expectantly. "Let's go."

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest but didn't protest. Begrudgingly, she stood up from the couch and padded back to the dark bedroom. Back underneath the sheets, she resisted the urge to check her phone on her nightstand. She watched Sonny peel off his sweatshirt and toss it carelessly to the side before he was next to her in the white t-shirt he originally fell asleep in. Soon his body was close to hers as he kissed her. She expected a quick peck, a non-verbal 'goodnight,' but it was much too intense for Amanda to roll over and ignore. She pulled his lean frame atop of hers, beginning a frenzy of wandering hands and discarded clothing.

"Is this why you wanted me to come to bed?" she mumbled playfully, only receiving a huff of laughter in response.

His chest now bare, Amanda's fingertips grazed over the skin there. She encountered the two circular bumps of scar tissue separated only by inches, the remnants of the two bullets that had torn through him that summer. Her own gunshot scar had faded by now, but even in the dark she knew that his were still a deep purple-red. It had been months since Sonny had been injured, but she felt a sudden swell of affection for him anyway, remembering how terrified she had been to lose him.

After a heated exchange of words people only uttered in fervor, after the coil of desire in her stomach had been sprung, their skin sticky with one another's sweat and his breath rapid and warm in the crook of her neck, Amanda felt her eyelids grow heavy.


	2. Chapter 2

"Morning, Detectives!" Maggie, the college-aged barista, greeted Amanda and Sonny cheerfully.

Most of the squad went to the same Starbucks every day: four blocks from the precinct, it was always in a state of controlled chaos, but over the years they had become acquainted with the staff. On several occasions, Amanda had witnessed Sonny and Fin shamelessly flirting with the girls behind the counter in hopes of free pastry - she hadn't quite stooped to that level.

Amanda hovered amid the hoards of customers with Sonny as they waited for their orders to be called, both of them still wearing their sunglasses despite being inside, like taking them off just to head back out into the bright winter sun moments later was far too much effort. Amanda slid her arms around Sonny's torso underneath his dark pea coat. Usually not one for public displays of affection, she was feeling particularly possessive that day. Maybe she was hormonal, or maybe it was because she noticed that Maggie always looked at Sonny _just a little too intently_ whenever she made his coffee.

"You're having a good hair day," Amanda observed as she peered up at him with coquettish smile.

Sonny's hand found the small of her back as he grinned. "I'm always havin' a good hair day." He leaned down slightly to kiss her.

"You guys are gonna make me hurl. Can't a person just get a cup of coffee without bein' subjected to this?" Fin's familiar voice came from somewhere behind her.

Amanda rolled her eyes and released her arms from around Sonny to see Fin paying at the cash register. "You wake up on the wrong side of the bed, old man?" she teased her partner.

"I never _went_ to bed. The sequel to my favorite game was released last night. I waited in line for five hours to get it," Fin explained.

Her brows knitted together in a combination of confusion and amusement; she knew Fin well enough to not challenge him on his choice of entertainment.

With coffees finally in hand, the three of them scurried through the cold toward the precinct and walked into the squad room together.

Upon her arrival, Liv told Amanda immediately, "Rollins, I've got Ms. Gray in the interview room waiting for you."

Amanda shook off her big navy jacket and took off her sunglasses, abandoning both at her desk. She wasn't expecting Laura's mother that morning, but maybe she had new information for her. Eager, she knocked on the door of the interview room before entering. Ms. Gray looked tired and frazzled, understandably so. She wasn't crying, but she was clutching a tissue in one hand like it was a definite possibility.

"Hi, Ms. Gray," Amanda said, sinking down into the chair across from the older woman.

"Call me Caroline. I'm sorry I'm here so early. It's just, I haven't been sleeping since... this happened to Laura," Ms. Gray explained shakily.

Amanda nodded in understanding. "How is Laura doing?"

"The same. Not worse, which I guess is a good thing." Caroline took a deep breath. "I know you asked me to try to think about the people in Laura's life, think about any relationships she had... but Laura was so private," Caroline stammered, looking to be on the verge of tears. "She had a couple of boyfriends in college, but nothing that lasted more than a few months. She was so focused on school..."

"It's okay," Amanda reassured her gently. "We've got other ways. We're going through her social media, her phone, to see what we can find."

"Those other families... of the two other girls. They are all so confused, so devastated... those were good girls, smart girls. They were doing the right thing, like Laura. Making lives for themselves..."

She bowed her head slightly. "I know."

Caroline suddenly reached across the table to grab Amanda's hand, squeezing it desperately, their gazes locked. "She's my little girl," she pleaded helplessly. "When her father left, I thought I would fall apart. Everything I did from that point forward was for Laura. If I lose her... I don't know what I'll do. You have to find who did this."

* * *

"Easy, Jesse. We want more in the pot than out of it," Sonny reminded the overeager three-year-old who stood on a step stool beside him at the stove.

Jesse was stirring a pot of sauce - or attempting to - after wearing Sonny down with repeated 'can I help?' queries. It was a cold night after a long day, Sonny's suit jacket discarded in favor of rolling up his sleeves and starting dinner within minutes of walking through the door. Amanda, of course, kept her distance; the kitchen was not her forte. In these scenarios, she typically sipped a glass of wine and offered color commentary. That evening, she was struck by how tired she was. The ongoing investigation was exhausting enough, but it was Caroline Gray's plea that had rented all the available space in Amanda's head.

She watched Sonny hoist Jesse off of the stool and set her back on the floor. "Good job. Now we gotta wait a little," he explained.

"It's cooking," Jesse informed her mother matter-of-factly.

Amanda smiled and picked her daughter up, resting Jesse on her hip. Jesse leaned her head against Amanda's shoulder, her little hand toying with the loose bow on her mother's silk blouse. "You a good girl today?" Amanda murmured into the top of Jesse's head.

"Yes," she answered sweetly.

"Did you learn anything?"

"Ella's dad drives a firetruck," Jesse reported, speaking of the neighbor downstairs who she often played with.

"That's right, he does. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Ella said my mom and dad are police officers."

Sonny glanced at her over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised, before he turned back to the stove.

Obviously little Ella didn't know about Declan, just the man and woman who seemed to care for her friend Jesse in the apartment above her. Amanda cleared her throat and said vaguely, "we're both police officers, yes..." It wasn't untrue.

"I know," Jesse said simply.

After a gentle squeeze, Amanda set Jesse down on the floor. "Why don't you go give a treat to Frannie, hm? I hear she's been good, too."

"Yeah!" the little girl replied excitedly, toddling away.

Arms crossed over her chest, Amanda chewed the inside of her lower lip. "I know I-"

Sonny turned around and shook his head, interrupting her gently, "let it go, 'Manda. Let her think whatever she thinks."

"You're the one who told me to tell her awhile ago," she reminded him.

He wiped his hands off on a dish towel before tossing it aside. He leaned back against the counter to look at her. "You know I love that little girl. I've read her 'If You Give a Mouse a Cookie' ten thousand times, helped clean her up when she's sick at two in the mornin', had everything I own drooled on, spit-up on... she ripped out four pages of my law dictionary, I'm missin' a bunch of the 'm's.' If that's what dads do, then..." He trailed off with a shrug.

Amanda knew what he was implying: Jesse may have been biologically Declan's, but three years had passed and he had never done the real work of a parent. Sonny had been involved with Jesse before she had even left her womb; he cared about Amanda, then he cared about Jesse, too, without hesitance or judgement.

Moving toward him, her fingertips played over the dark suit vest he was still wearing. She wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug that lingered, her cheek resting on his shoulder as his arms enveloped her. She leaned her weight into his body wordlessly, but her mind was turning: Amanda was always convinced that she would never marry, and that the concept of 'the one' was a pathetic fantasy, but in that moment she understood what all of her girlfriends gushed about. Sonny was rare and good, and she didn't know how he ended up there but she couldn't imagine letting him go. She felt her love for him in her bones.

* * *

"I got Laura's phone back from TARU," Amanda announced excitedly at the precinct. She was drained that morning, but that didn't impact how eager she was to share the new information with the squad.

"Yeah? Anything good?" Sonny asked her from his desk, not looking up from the notes he was scribbling about another case.

"Took them long enough," Fin mumbled.

"It looks like she's got a psychiatrist," she continued despite the lack of an enthusiastic response.

Sonny peered up at her, not appearing all that impressed. "Okay..."

"Dr. Jeremy Garner is his name. He works out of a huge practice in TriBeCa. I tried to get in touch with him, but his secretary told me he's been on a sabbatical in India for the past four-ish months. Incommunicado. Convenient, don't you think?"

"You're goin' Amaro on us. That doesn't really mean anything," Fin cautioned her knowingly, leaning back in his chair to put his feet up on his desk.

Amanda rolled her eyes, momentarily flustered by his reference and the implication that she was paranoid. "I'm going through the contacts of the other girls again now. Nobody mentioned they were in therapy but that doesn't mean they weren't, or hadn't been in the past. It could give us a lead. People stay stuff in therapy they would never say to friends or family, maybe there's something in those notes!"

"The doc isn't gonna tell you anything without a court order-" Sonny said.

"I know: HIPAA. I already left a message for Barba," she interrupted briskly.

Sonny abandoned his pen and his notes to eye Amanda skeptically. "Because this shrink has been away for four months and that happens to coincide with when these girls got attacked? That seems like a stretch, Rollins. You ask Liv about doin' this?"

"You new here, Carisi? Amanda prefers to ask for forgiveness, not permission," Fin interjected with a smirk.

* * *

"Rollins, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Barba asked her from his desk two days later, filling out paperwork, clearly distracted by something he deemed more important.

Amanda stood in front of him in her big winter coat with her beanie still on her head, cheeks red from the biting cold air of January. "Didn't you get my message?" she asked him breathlessly.

"I did. I thought my lack of response would be a sufficient answer to your question. It's too much of a reach," he explained, shuffling files around to move on to the next document.

Her eyes widened and her brow furrowed. "Come on! Dodds is up our ass to figure this out. It's not so implausible and I have this feeling-"

The counselor peered up at her with raised eyebrows, almost appearing amused. "I want this guy as much as you do, but do you realize how crazy people get around HIPAA and privacy, especially when it comes to mental health? You need to give me more than a _feeling_ for me to ask this practice for protected health information."

She was getting tired of people trivializing her gut instinct - it wasn't like she had just become a detective yesterday. "I went through all of the girls' phones again. The other two - Cara and Sydney - they have that practice listed in their contacts. Isn't that a little weird? Therapists are a dime a dozen in New York City but they all had the same one?"

Barba heaved a dramatic sigh and set his pen down.

Amanda used his lack of response as an opportunity to continue, "besides their appearance, this is the one thing those vics have in common, Barba. I know it's just an idea but at least it's _something_ and as of right now we don't have a thing except two dead women and one who is barely alive. He got sloppy, he didn't finish the job with Laura, but since when has that stopped a serial? He's winning because we're out of leads. We've exhausted the friends and family, the crime scenes are immaculate, the-"

He put his hand up to silence her, looking pained. "Okay, okay. I'll see what I can do."


	3. Chapter 3

"Ask and you shall receive," Barba said with a smirk as he dropped a heavy box of files onto Amanda's desk Friday evening. They landed with a 'thud.'

She sat back in her chair, surprised. "What's this?"

"It's all of the notes on your girls from Dr. Garner's office."

"Jesus," Amanda mumbled.

"Enjoy your bedtime stories, Detective," Barba quipped before walking away.

* * *

Jesse was in her pajamas, eyeing her mother in the living room. Her stuffed rabbit - appropriately named Bunny - hung from her little fist by its floppy ear.

"Mama, what are you doin'?" she inquired curiously.

"I'm reading," Amanda explained simply, her head propped up against the armrest of the couch and her legs stretched out across the cushions. A finished glass of whiskey sat forgotten on the side table.

"Can I lay with you?" Jesse asked, already making her way over.

"Of course, but it's gonna be time for bed soon."

"What are you reading?" Jesse climbed up on to the couch and tucked her smaller body in the crook of Amanda's arm, Bunny squished between them against her mother's side. The little girl was warm and soft and smelled like fruity shampoo, the nicest contrast to the gruesome work Amanda did all day.

"Stuff for work."

"Where's dad?"

God, when was she going to have the heart to break her of that habit? "He's watching football with Fin. He'll be home soon."

"Why?"

"Because they like football."

"Do you?"

"I like basketball and baseball better."

"Why?"

Amanda sighed. Was this what being interrogated felt like? She closed the file folder that was resting on her abdomen. "Because different people like different things."

"Do you like... me?" Jesse asked playfully.

She smiled down at her daughter. "I don't just like you, I _l_ _ove_ you, baby."

Amanda expected Jesse's inquires to continue; her curiosity was insatiable these days. It seemed like her last answer satisfied her, though, because the eager three-year-old went quiet. Soon, Amanda could hear and feel the rhythm of her daughter's steady breathing, indicating that she had fallen asleep even despite the shuffling of papers. Looking down, Amanda saw that Jesse's thumb had made it to her mouth, too. She hesitated moving her to her bed just yet, so Amanda continued to carefully comb through the stack of notes. When Sonny came home, she was still in the very same position.

"You have a good time?" Amanda asked him quietly, unable to get up and greet him without jostling Jesse.

"Terrible game. We had fun, though," he responded, matching her low tone of voice as he hung up his coat. He walked over to them and leaned down over the couch to kiss her. When he pulled away, his palm ran gently over Jesse's head. Carefully, he scooped her up to hold her close to his chest, the little girl's head lolling onto his shoulder, Bunny's ear still in her tight grasp. "Bed time?"

Amanda nodded. "An hour ago."

Left alone, she tried to refocus on the notes in front of her, but her eyes kept blurring. There were so many of them and her head was flooded with snippets of phrases she was trying to hold onto, trying to make something of.

When Sonny returned, he kicked off his shoes and joined her on the couch. She lifted her legs to stretch them over his lap as Sonny rested his feet on the coffee table. "Wild Friday night, huh?" he teased.

She grinned before shaking head. "All these notes... they're weird."

Sonny yawned. "What kinda 'weird' are we talkin' about here?"

Her eyebrows knitting together, she explained, "they are just... focused oddly. A lot of time is spent talking about Laura's looks. I mean, in this one she's there to talk about anxiety, but he's got two paragraphs on her appearance and mannerisms." She grabbed one from the table that she had purposefully put aside. "Listen to this one about Laura: 'patient presents today as pleasant and cooperative. Her hair is neat and shiny. Her legs are pale but toned. Her collarbones appear pronounced and delicate, she has a sweet stare that one could describe as doe-eyed...' It just goes on and on and on like that."

"That's definitely creepy, but-"

"I'm just sayin'. He writes about Cara and Sydney that way too, although they haven't seen him in awhile."

"So what's your workin' theory here, Detective? This doc might reference a potential suspect in his notes - or this doc _is_ the perp?"

"I haven't decided yet. I sorta implied both to Barba to justify getting these," she admitted, gesturing to the paperwork.

"And this guy's in India?"

"I guess so. His secretary said even his wife and kids can't reach him."

"When's he comin' back?"

Amanda sighed and tossed the file she had been looking at onto the coffee table haphazardly. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, she was so tired lately, sometimes it hit like a wave crashing over her out of nowhere. "I dunno. The secretary got extremely defensive, talked about how there are plenty of other providers to cover his cases till he returns, she isn't supposed to be giving personal details out about the doctors, blah, blah..."

"Hm," Sonny said thoughtfully. "You look up his license yet? His medical license, I mean. Like, the bar association has my license number and you gotta attach an address to it. Most people put where they're practicin', but some people are dumb enough to put their home address. It's available to the public so any nutjob can see it." Eyes still closed, she felt the warmth of his hand on her knee. "Same goes for doctors. Maybe you'll get lucky lookin' his up."

She opened her eyes up. Why didn't she think of that? "So far I've only googled him. That's pretty smart."

Sonny sighed. "I have my moments. Let's not forget that I do my crossword puzzles in _pen_."

* * *

Sonny had been right.

Dr. Garner had his home address listed with his medical license number. With Fin by her side, Amanda stood on the steps of his elegant upper west side brownstone. She rang the buzzer, hoping somebody would be home.

"This weather almost makes me miss Atlanta," Amanda grumbled, shivering even beneath her heavy winter coat. She pulled her hat down further over her ears, which were beginning to sting from the cold.

Fin shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and glanced over at her. "How come Carisi gets to work a sexting case in a cushy private school while we're out here freezing our asses off?"

She rolled her eyes. "We're on the upper west side, Fin. We're not exactly slummin' it."

The door adorned in stately wrought iron finally creaked open to reveal a curly-haired woman dressed in purple scrubs. She seemed to be in her forties, just a bit overweight with a kind face. Amanda thought she was the type of person who would get lost in a crowd, as she appeared so pleasantly average. She looked at the two of them, confused. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, Mrs. Garner?" Amanda guessed. She revealed her badge. "I'm Detective Rollins, this is Detective Tutuola. Do you have a minute to talk?"

Mrs. Garner's brow furrowed. "Yes, I'm Carol. Police? Did something happen to my boys?" she asked anxiously.

"No. We're trying to gather some information about an ongoing investigation, thought you could be of some help," Fin explained.

"I mean... I don't know about that. I have to go to work soon, but... alright, come in," Carol Garner resigned, opening the door up further to allow the detectives to enter.

Grateful to be out of cold, the two detectives hurried inside. Amanda's eyes scanned the home: it was beautiful and spacious but hardly the most lavish apartment she had ever been inside. It was definitely lived-in: video game consoles sat by the television, sports jerseys were draped haphazardly over the railing of the staircase and somebody had left an unfinished glass of orange juice on the coffee table. There were photographs everywhere, many of them featuring two young boys who Amanda assumed were the Garners' sons.

"Have a seat," Carol instructed, motioning to the living room couch. "What's this about?"

"Your husband, Jeremy, he's a psychiatrist?" Amanda began, pulling her hat off and smoothing down her hair as she sat down.

"Yes, he is. But he's not here right now," Carol explained.

"About that - where is he?"

"India. Every few years he likes to take trips to 'disconnect' and 'reset.' Last year it was Mozambique. He's very sensitive, his work deeply effects him," Carol said with an adoring smile.

"Anyway we can reach him over there?" Fin asked from the seat next to Amanda.

Carol looked between the two detectives. "Reach him? Why?"

"He's the psychiatrist for three women who were attacked recently in the city. We were able to obtain his notes but it'd be helpful to talk to him," Amanda said.

"Oh, I heard about that on the news. Terrible," Carol replied with a sad shake of her head. "I'm sorry, but, he doesn't even bring his cell phone. He's off the grid till the first week of February."

"And you're okay with that, bein' alone with your kids for months?" Amanda asked skeptically.

Carol shifted in her seat, the smile fading from her features. "I support my husband, as he supports me. I'm a nurse, I know how draining taking care of people can be. If he says he needs to go away for awhile for his own professional and personal development, so be it. He always comes back so much more refreshed and... passionate."

"Okay," Fin said flatly, clearly not impressed.

For some reason, this interaction was beginning to annoy her. "Could you give me a call when he gets back, or if you hear from him?" Amanda requested, a still-cold hand pulling her business card from her coat pocket.

Carol plucked it from the detective's fingers and grinned again. "Anything to be of help."

* * *

She awoke to her phone ringing.

Moments earlier, Amanda had been sleeping - as one usually is at four o'clock in the morning. Eyes wide and heart racing from the suddenness of the sound, she blindly reached over to the bedside table to fumble for the device before it woke Sonny up, too. Eyes bleary, she saw Fin's name on the screen.

"Fin, what's up?" she whispered, although that was most likely pointless as she already felt Sonny stirring beside her.

"Laura Gray is awake. She woke up a few hours ago, doctor said we could question her," Fin explained.

"I'm coming now. Meet you there," Amanda told him, already getting out of bed as she hung up the phone.

"Who is it?" she heard Sonny ask into his pillow.

"Fin. Laura's awake," she explained, moving through the dark to grab clothes. Frannie watched her from the end of the bed, ears perked, but not interested enough in her owner's movements to abandon her warm spot on the comforter.

"She's got crappy timing," Sonny remarked, voice still muffled.

Amanda pulled on a pair of jeans before peeling off her t-shirt in favor of a bra and button-up. "I know."

She scurried out into the bathroom to splash water on her face and brush her teeth before returning to the bedroom. She could have used some mascara and tinted moisturizer, but that seemed unnecessary given the circumstances. Attaching her gun and her badge to her hip, she said to Sonny's half-asleep form, "I'll see you at the precinct later."

Sonny made a low noise of acknowledgment in response, then she was at the threshold of her apartment, putting on her coat and shoes to brave the bitter cold morning. Not feeling energized enough to walk or navigate the subway, she hailed a cab that brought her straight to the revolving doors of Bellevue. She already knew what floor Laura was on due to countless phone calls Amanda had made to the nursing staff since the young woman had been admitted. She found Fin hovering by the elevator once she arrived to the unit.

"Did you talk to her yet?" Amanda asked her partner.

"Nah, I just got here. Nurses say her memory is spotty but she's alert," Fin explained as they both began to walk toward Laura's room. "Her mother knows we're comin'. She's talking with the doctors now."

Amanda nodded in understanding. She gave a quiet knock to Laura's door before entering with Fin at her heels. The young woman was sitting up in bed, her brunette hair matted and stringy around her face, dark circles beneath her eyes. It was hard to ignore the bruises at her neck that had turned shades of purple, green and yellow as they healed. Her eyes were wide, fearful.

"Hi, Laura. My name's Detective Rollins. You can call me Amanda. This is my partner, Detective Tutuola," Amanda explained gently.

Laura visibly relaxed, but only slightly. "Hi." Her voice was hoarse, most likely from the ventilator she was on while in a coma and the force of the strangulation she had endured.

"How are you?"

Laura gave a shrug. "Look at me," she answered, her tone deadpan.

Hovering by Laura's bed, Amanda glanced over at Fin, who appeared stoic. "We're from Special Victims Unit. We've been working on your case, trying to find out who did this to you," Amanda told her.

She watched Laura swallow; it looked painful.

"Can you remember anything from that night?" Amanda asked carefully.

"My mom keeps asking me that," Laura said, eyes wide again. "I remember coming home from work and being in my bedroom. My cat, Lily, started meowing in the hallway and I went out to check on her and..." Her face contorted with sadness and fear, tears beginning to roll down her colorless cheeks. She looked at Amanda with a kind of panicked desperation and her voice began to tremble. "Everything is so hazy... it scares me that I can't remember, because I wonder what it is I've forgotten... it must be something terrible, because I woke up here, like this. They said I was in a coma for awhile and I almost wish... I almost wish I still was, because I've been scared every minute I've been awake and I don't even know what of..."

"It's okay, Laura. It's okay. You've been through a lot," Amanda assured her, knowing that this line of questioning was more harmful than helpful at the moment. She could have explained to Laura the circumstances under which she was found, but she was clearly too fragile for those details. "We want you to know that we're gonna figure this out. You're safe here. We've had a police officer outside of your door ever since you were admitted."

Laura sniffed and pulled in a shaky breath, appearing unconvinced. Even though she was in her thirties, she looked so young, so vulnerable. Amanda thought of Jesse, how one day she would be an adult but still her baby, still the brightest light in her life. Caroline Gray felt the same way about Laura, except now she was watching that light fizzle out in the wake of unspeakable trauma.

Amanda had to solve this.


	4. Chapter 4

The squad room was empty. Amanda had purposefully waited until everyone had left that night to pull her purse back out and dig to the bottom of it. Blindly, her fingers grazed the box that sat beneath her wallet, keys and loose make-up.

In the dingy precinct bathroom stall, Amanda blinked down at the little plus sign darkening slowly before her eyes. She pressed her lips together as she felt her heartbeat quickening, unable to look away from the test results in her hand. This wasn't a total surprise: she had suspected that she was pregnant for awhile. First it was just an indescribable feeling, then it was a missed period and a too-tired body and her stomach turning when Fin had brought her favorite Chinese food for lunch.

Amanda did the math in her head and she landed on one particular evening, almost ten weeks ago: the backseat of an undercover squad car after interviewing a witness for a case in upstate New York. The work done and a long drive ahead of them, she and Sonny had switched from professional detectives to impulsive, promiscuous teenagers in no time at all. She loved when Sonny's eyes went dark and he got insistent and impatient, wanting her _now, now, now_ because nothing else would do - a sharp contrast to his otherwise gentle demeanor. In her daily life she was always fighting to remain in control, so there was excitement to be had when Sonny took over, strong and dominate. Sometimes when they were together at work, she would watch him at his desk or talking to Liv and she would smile privately to herself, smug that she got a side of Sonny that nobody else saw - and he got that part of her, too.

Everything had consequences. She had been careless: all it took was one or two forgotten birth control pills. As Amanda moved through the motions of throwing the test away and washing her hands, she caught sight of herself in the cloudy mirror above the sink. Her mind was racing and it was written all over her face. How was this supposed to feel? When other women found out they were pregnant, were they blossoming with pride and excitement? If so, why did Amanda feel like a deer caught in headlights, her chest suddenly crushed with the weight of this discovery? It was the same sensation that had crashed over her three years ago. Jesse was the best thing that had ever happened to her, but God, had it been terrifying to know that she was all her daughter had, that _she_ was the adult charged with raising a human to be safe and healthy and good.

But she hadn't been totally alone. Amanda had had Sonny to lean on, sporadically at first and now all of the time. She hadn't known how much she needed him until there were moments when he was gone and she felt as if she was drowning in a loneliness that even Jesse couldn't soothe. Being a mother was amazing and terribly isolating all at once; somehow he knew that and stepped in exactly when he should have, exactly when she was ready to accept him.

Walking back to her desk, she began to put on her coat. She didn't know how Sonny was going to react, but this wasn't the sort of secret she felt like she could keep, not with him sharing a bed with her. When Amanda thought of him, though, she felt her cheeks warm at his potential excitement. He wasn't aggressive like Nick or calculated like Declan - he was kind and nurturing, the type of person who loved to love.

Outside, Amanda had a sudden, less pleasant realization: the case she had been so tirelessly working on would be taken from her the moment Liv knew she was pregnant, per protocol. She would be on desk duty while everyone else took over, forced to sit on the sidelines and hear about all of the action second-hand. The end of her pregnancy with Jesse was rocky enough that Amanda knew Liv ultimately regretted allowing her to stay active for so long - there would be no way to convince her lieutenant of giving her that chance again. Once she was confined to the squad room people would start coddling her, trying to protect her, making her feel like she was fragile and incapable just because she was pregnant. The mere thought of having to endure that for nine straight months made her blood boil.

Finally home, Amanda engaged in distracted small-talk with Audrey until she left for the night. She watched Sonny and Jesse as they hovered in the kitchen, Jesse babbling about her day which sounded remarkably eventful for a three-year-old.

"Hey, Jesse," Amanda said, crouching down to her daughter's level. She took her little hands in her own and gave her a smile. "Go play on your iPad in your room, okay? Just for a little while."

Jesse pouted but obeyed, leaving the two adults alone in the kitchen.

Standing up straight, she ran her fingers through her hair. "We need to talk," she said to Sonny.

"Okay. Y'wanna beer?" Sonny asked as he dug around in the refrigerator. Now that they lived together, it was always packed with food.

"Uh... no."

Turning back around, he cracked open a bottle and took a swig. "What's up?"

"I think you're gonna want to be sitting down for this." It was so cliche, but somehow she felt like it would be easier to say if he wasn't looming over her.

"Okay..." His brows knitted together as he sunk into a chair at the small kitchen table. He loosened his tie. "Is somebody dead?"

"No..."

"What is it?"

She wrung her hands together. Suddenly the sweater she was wearing felt very warm - too warm. _Just say it, Amanda. You're a grown woman. Just spit it out already._ "I'm pregnant."

The silence that fell between them felt like it went on for an eternity. She watched Sonny's eyes widen, his expression shocked, while she wore her best poker face.

"Okay. Wow," Sonny finally said, sounding as dumbfounded as he looked.

"Yeah," she responded stupidly.

"You sure?" he asked tentatively.

She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. "I'm sure." As if on cue, the small motion provoked a wave of nausea, the feeling quickly rising from her stomach to her throat. Amanda put her finger up to indicate 'one minute' as casually as possible, but ended up running to the bathroom in a way that was far from nonchalant.

Dropping to her knees on the ugly mat her mother had bought her, she blindly twisted her hair up into a knot at the back of her neck right before she vomited into the toilet.

"Mama's throwin' up!" Jesse called, sticking her head out of her bedroom door.

"Yes, Jesse, thank you," she heard Sonny respond sardonically, his footsteps approaching the bathroom.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him appear in the doorway seconds later. This wasn't her most attractive moment, but she had other things to worry about besides how she looked hunched over. "You cannot tell Liv about this," Amanda ordered Sonny breathlessly. "She'll take me off the case."

"Are you kiddin' me? _That's_ what you have to say to me right now?" Sonny asked.

Suddenly incredibly anxious, she continued almost frantically, "nobody. Don't tell anybody. You know how everybody in that place talks and I am not sitting on desk duty for nine months."

Sonny shook his head, exasperated. "Wow, Amanda."

Carefully, shakily, she got up and flushed the toilet before running the cold water. It didn't feel as good on her skin as she had hoped. "I have been leading this case for five months and I'm finally getting somewhere. It's mine. I am not handing it over to y'all - no offense."

"Are you listenin' to yourself? You're unbelievable," Sonny exclaimed with a crass laugh as he walked into the bedroom.

Amanda followed him. Jesse wandered in behind her, a cheerful video playing on the iPad she was carrying. The little girl waited, standing between them both for an opportunity to show it off to whoever would give her any attention.

"Don't act like I'm being crazy. It's not crazy to want to protect what's mine!" Amanda exploded. She felt dizzy, sort of like she was outside of her body, watching all of this take place. Vaguely aware of how selfish she sounded, she wanted to rewind and start over, but it was too late now.

"'Protect what's yours?' How about our kid? That interest you at all?" Sonny demanded, bewildered.

Her breath caught in her chest, momentarily disarmed by his words and the tone of his voice. "Jesse, go back to your room," Amanda said to her daughter shortly.

"But-" Jesse began to plead.

"Go!" her mother ordered sternly. She immediately regretted it: Amanda had sworn that she would never speak to Jesse the way her mother had spoken to her throughout her childhood. Amanda and Kim had watched so many arguments between Beth Anne and their father, and then with her boyfriends, that Amanda didn't want Jesse witnessing the same kind of drama - even so, was that a valid excuse to bark at her daughter?

Once Jesse walked away, Sonny said through gritted teeth, "I don't give a damn about SVU right now but I'm glad that's your priority."

"It's not my priority, it's just-"

"Now you're a liar. Man, you're really on a roll tonight." His tone was bitter and sarcastic.

She swallowed hard; now the lump that was in her throat was from guilt, not pregnancy. Sonny looked angry and hurt as he stood seething in front of her. "Okay, wait. Wait, I didn't mean..."

Sonny shook his head dismissively before making his way back out of the bedroom. "I'm goin' for a walk."

"It's freezing out," Amanda said, hurrying behind him.

"Then I'm goin' for a drink," he concluded, avoiding eye contact with her as he pulled his coat from the rack and started putting it on.

Panic was beginning to rise inside of her. "Please don't-"

Amanda winced as the front door slammed shut, Sonny on the other side of it before she could even finish her plea.


	5. Chapter 5

Amanda laid with Jesse on her toddler-sized mattress, absently stroking her hair. Thankfully, three-year-olds didn't hold grudges - just as long as you read them four bedtime stories of their choosing. So Amanda had slowly flipped through the pages of her daughter's favorite books, narrating the lives of the fictional characters with their blissfully simple existences, pausing on occasion to answer Jesse's curious questions. Eventually, Amanda was the only one left awake. She lingered with Jesse for a little while longer, reassured by the way her sleeping daughter clung to her side, as if she was reminding Amanda that she was somebody worth holding on to. Jesse was just a child, but she always had a special way of bringing her mother back down to earth.

She loved being a parent, even with all of its challenges, even if she had never imagined she would ever become one. There had been a shift in Amanda's identity after Jesse was born, one that had frightened her and made her nervous, but she had found her footing anyway. Or, at least, she thought she had - now that she was pregnant again, that old confusion started creeping in. She wished she could have fought that battle privately, instead of putting it on display for Sonny that night.

Eventually, she got up from the bed. She covered Jesse with a blanket, shut off her light and quietly walked back out into the apartment. In the kitchen, she made herself a cup of ginger tea and glanced at her phone, hoping that Sonny had called or texted her - but he hadn't. Amanda's heart sunk into her stomach at the realization that he had wanted to be anywhere but there with her.

In her bedroom, she changed into sweatpants and a faded burgundy Fordham shirt, one that Sonny had shrunk in the wash and she had quickly taken ownership of. It was still too big, but it was soft and comfortable. She needed that. She sat beneath her comforter, back leaned against the headboard as she nursed her cup of tea and tried to watch television with Frannie. The dog rested her head in her owner's lap, like she knew that was the very best place for her right now. Amanda's mind kept wandering as time passed: what if he didn't come back? What if he decided that out of everything that Amanda had thrown at him over the years, this was unacceptable? She was meant to be alone, to be a self-serving woman operating under the guise of a doting mother...

Amanda had just started to drift to sleep when she heard the distant sound of keys in the lock of the front door. Startled, for a split second she was so discombobulated that she didn't know where she was. She looked around: the room was glowing from the television and the lamp by the bed, her mug almost empty and cold next to her. Amanda sat up further, legs crossed beneath the comforter. It was almost one in the morning now and she had no idea where Sonny had been or what he had been doing. Under any other circumstance, she would have fiercely interrogated him, but not that night.

When he finally walked into the bedroom, his eyes wordlessly found Amanda's. She remained quiet, hands in her lap now that Frannie had moved. She wasn't sure if it was better or worse that he didn't say anything. He moved around the room as if he hadn't even seen her, pulling off his tie and his belt before beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. He must have felt her staring at him, because he peered up at her, fingers pausing their work.

"Hi," she offered meekly.

He was stone-faced. "Hey."

God, she despised being wrong more than most things but she knew she was, she knew that this was her mistake to own. If he was home at least she had a shot of fixing this. She tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. "Can I... uh, try this again?" she asked him sheepishly, as if she was hoping he could disregard their earlier conversation in favor of this new, nicer one.

Sonny eyed her skeptically, his doubt palpable.

"Please?"

His shirt on but unbuttoned, he sat down on the edge of the bed near Amanda, his forearms resting on his knees and his hands clasped loosely. His gaze was toward the floor, she assumed so he didn't have to look at her. She longed for him to break the tension with his quick wit, but he didn't appear even the slightest bit amused. Close to him, she smelled the faint scent of beer, but he didn't seem drunk. In a way she was jealous: she would have killed for a whiskey neat that night.

Amanda toyed with the comforter that was pooled in her lap, feeling embarrassed. "That wasn't the way I was planning to have this conversation," she began.

"But it's how you feel," Sonny replied immediately, remaining expressionless and unmoving. The edge was out of his voice, but there was a heaviness to his tone.

She felt far away from him. Amanda reached over to set a hand on his bare forearm, his skin still cool from the air outside. She tilted her head, trying to look him in the eye. "I feel a lot of things. I wish that wasn't the one that came out first." She studied her pale fingers against his tan arm. "I'm sorry."

"You've always been so much better at disconnecting from work, at not making this job your whole life..." Amanda went on to explain quietly. It sounded like an excuse and she hated that. She watched his profile, taking in the strong but boyish features she loved so much. "And I know I get crazy about SVU, I know that I do," she continued earnestly, squeezing his forearm for emphasis. She felt like she had never needed him to understand something as badly as she needed him to understand _this_. "But please believe me when I say that nothing is more important to me than what I have right here."

She watched him nod slowly, silently, like he was taking the time to absorb her words. She wanted to fill the empty space with more appeals for his forgiveness, but she pressed her lips together instead, waiting.

He finally looked over at her, a lock of loose hair falling over his forehead in a curl. He studied her for a moment, his expression softer than it had been earlier. "You're really pregnant, huh?"

Amanda nodded. "Yeah... how are you feelin' about that?"

He smiled and she felt her heart shift back into its rightful place. "I mean, I always wanted kids, you know that. Havin' Jesse here has been great, watchin' a little person grow up every day, helpin' her learn the world. I couldn't have imagined how awesome that'd be till you let me into her life." He looked away thoughtfully, then back over at her once more. "Now, it's like... wow. A piece of you and a piece of me?" His grin grew wider as he shook his head, like he was at a loss for the right words. "I think that's pretty cool."

Amanda returned his smile, suddenly overwhelmed with relief and adoration for a man she had never seen coming but now couldn't possibly exist without. "It is pretty cool," she agreed with a soft laugh. Neither of them were very eloquent, but that never seemed to matter. Her fingers squeezed his forearm again. "Can I have a kiss now?" she asked him coyly.

He smirked at her before leaning in, taking her face into his hands. Maybe he couldn't find the right words to express himself, but the intensity of his kiss did the job without him having to speak. After a moment he pulled away just slightly, their blue eyes meeting. "I love you," he told her firmly.

"I know. I love you, too."

"I'm not gonna say anything to anybody. Not now," Sonny assured her, then gave Amanda a pointed look. "But you gotta promise me that down the road you don't let this get out of hand, like last time."

She shook her head gently, cheeks still held securely by his palms. "I won't. I promise."

* * *

A few days later, Amanda returned to Bellevue alone. Laura looked better, although her bruises were still standing out garishly against the skin of her neck. It was hard not to look at them that morning when Amanda found her reading a book in her hospital bed.

"Hey, Laura," Amanda said upon her arrival.

"Detective. Hi." The brunette managed a weak smile.

"You look like you're feeling a little better," Amanda observed, sitting in a chair next to the bed. She noticed that the red nail polish that had been applied to Laura's lifeless hands after her attack had been scrubbed away.

"I am. Concentrating is hard but I feel a little less hazy." She closed her book in her lap and set it aside. "I keep trying to go over that day in my head. I'm trying to think about what I did before, too, like maybe that'll help with the rest..."

"It'll get easier with time," she assured Laura. She hadn't visited her that day with any real hopes of a revelation on Laura's part; Amanda just felt like she deserved to know somebody was still interested in getting her justice.

Laura looked determined, brows knitted together, staring straight ahead like she was reading some invisible prompt. "The day before... I went to work. We had a sales meeting in the morning. Then... then I went to a lunch with a client. Their whole office... we had this big, long table at... at Amelie. I had an appointment that afternoon, at-" Laura stopped suddenly. Amanda watched as Laura's face blanched, her eyes widening like she had seen a ghost. Her thin hand was trembling as she covered her mouth.

"It's okay, Laura. You don't have to remember everything. Give yourself a rest," Amanda told her gently.

"It was him," Laura croaked, like she hadn't even heard her.

Amanda furrowed her brow. "What? Who? It was who?"

Laura lowered a shaking hand from her mouth and begun to wring her fingers together so forcefully that it almost looked painful. "I-I went to TriBeCa. I went to end things with my therapist. I didn't, I didn't feel like I needed to go anymore. I didn't think it was that big of a deal! People do that. And then..." Her chest began rising and falling visibly, her breath harsh and ragged. "That night... Lily was meowing in the hall and I went to see what she was doing and he was there. He was standing right there, in my apartment!"

"Hold on. You're saying your therapist, Dr. Garner, did this to you?" Amanda's voice was steady and firm, but her heart was beginning to race as she witnessed Laura's memory return right before her eyes.

Now nearing hysteria, Laura shrieked frantically, "yes! I know it was him! _He was standing right there_!"


	6. Chapter 6

"That son of a bitch has been in New York City this whole time!" Amanda exclaimed, quickly scrolling through Dr. Garner's financial records on her laptop, Liv, Fin and Sonny hovering over her shoulder. She had accessed them the second they had been legally able to, Laura's frantic identification of her attacker giving the squad the ability to request as much private information about Dr. Garner as they needed.

"I knew it. India my ass. Where the hell is he hiding?" Fin asked, squinting at the screen.

"There are so many charges here," Amanda replied, visibly annoyed as she quickly tried to sift through Dr. Garner's credit card statements to get to anything particularly telling. After a minute, she paused suddenly, her cursor lingering over one particular transaction. "Looks like he made an Air B&B deposit five months ago... in Queens."

"Contact the owner, then get him," Liv ordered.

* * *

They had to break in with ESU, destroying the front door of the beautiful home Dr. Jeremey Garner didn't own. They found the psychiatrist sitting on the edge of the bed solemnly, like he was just waiting for somebody to find him there. Amanda had seen pictures of him online, but she was struck by how handsome the doctor was: dark hair, tan skin and a fit physique. For some reason, his attractiveness made her even more angry, almost positive that he used his looks to his advantage when gearing up to commit unspeakable crimes.

The television was on, a cheerful cooking show lighting up the flat screen as police flooded the room. Dr. Garner didn't put up a fight - in fact, he looked rather pleased with himself as Amanda roughly held him against the wall and handcuffed him. It was Fin who had made the second-best discovery of the day: three locks of brunette hair, each shiny, tangle-free and tied together with a ribbon, hidden beneath the mattress. CSU wasted no time tearing into the rest of the apartment as SVU hauled Dr. Garner back to the precinct.

"Dr. Garner. You make a habit of taking secret staycations?" Amanda asked the psychiatrist once finally alone with him in the interrogation room. She paced slowly, like a predator circling its prey.

Dr. Garner didn't respond.

She tossed the evidence bags containing the strands of hair they had collected in front of him. "You wanna tell me why we found these under your mattress?"

Dr. Garner continued to intently study his hands, which were handcuffed to the table.

Standing still, Amanda leaned over, palms pressed into the cold surface of the table. Her voice low, she threatened, "let's make one thing clear: whether you talk or not, we've got you. Your last vic identified you. CSU is all over that Air B&B. I'm runnin' the DNA on this hair right now and I guarantee they're gonna come back matching Laura Gray, Sydney Ryan and Cara Gerber. Now, keepin' all that in mind, let me ask you: you always cut your patients' hair?"

"No."

She was genuinely surprised to hear Dr. Garner's voice. Amanda sunk into the chair across from him. "Do tell," she prompted him sarcastically.

His dark eyes found Amanda's, his expression blank, his tone barely above a whisper. "Do you know what it's like, Detective, listening to people's petty problems day in and day out? Over and over and over, the same superficial nonsense. And then after you've listened to them for months and months - sometimes years - they leave, like you didnt do anything for them at all."

Amanda kept her features stoic. "That's your job. You're a psychiatrist. You're supposed to help people."

"Those women didn't need _help_ ," Dr. Garner spat, face crumpled in disgust. "They didn't know what real suffering was."

"And now they do? You stalked them, raped them, killed them. You posed them incapacitated in their own homes, for what? So you could see them among all their belongings, unable to enjoy the lives they had made for themselves, the lives you deemed so superficial?" Her voice was steadily rising with anger. "Then you took their hair as a trophy, so you could remind yourself of how powerful you are? That _you're_ the one who gets to decide who's worthy of existing?"

A tiny smirk pulled at Dr. Garner's mouth. "Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Detective." He leaned back in his chair as far as his handcuffs would allow. "I want my lawyer."

* * *

Carol Garner came into the precinct later that night. She looked disheveled, her curly hair in a sloppy ponytail, her clothes wrinkled and her face puffy. Her arms were wrapped around herself in a tight hug, like it was the only way she was keeping herself together. She pushed past uniformed officers attempting to intercept her and demanded to speak with Amanda.

"You," Carol said with a pointed finger in the blonde detective's direction. "I remember you. I want to talk to you."

Amanda was exhausted. She wanted to go home. She imagined Sonny reading Jesse a story and her heart squeezed with both envy and guilt.

"Mrs. Garner, why don't we go somewhere private to talk," Amanda suggested, getting up from her desk to lead the older woman into the interview room. She took Dr. Garner's case file with her.

"There has to be some mistake!" Carol blurted the moment they were sitting alone together.

If she had a dollar for every time somebody said that to her, she would have been a millionaire. Amanda pulled in a breath, bracing herself for the conversation that was about to take place. "Mrs. Garner. Do you understand what's just happened?"

"No, I don't!" She looked like a terrified person who was trying to pass off their fear as anger.

"Your husband has been living in Queens for five months - not India. We found locks of hair under the mattress there, all of them matching the three victims of the rape and strangulation cases we've been investigating," she explained slowly, even though Mrs. Garner had already been informed earlier that day.

"That's impossible," Carol said dismissively.

Amanda opened the manilla case file and began to lay photos out in front of Carol. "This is security footage of your husband coming in and out of an apartment in Queens last week." She added more pictures to the pile. "These are photos of the girls your husband stalked and killed, and the hair he took from all of them. This girl," she paused to point to Laura, "identified your husband as the man who broke into her apartment and attacked her."

Carol shook her head and pushed the photographs away. "No. Not Jeremy. This has to be a mistake."

"It's not."

"Then, then... then he's sick! He needs help! You can't arrest him," she argued frantically, her eyes welling up.

"He's already been processed, Mrs. Garner."

"You can't do that!" Carol sobbed loudly. "Our boys, they're only twelve and nine. What am I supposed to tell them? This is going to be all over the news!"

She bowed her head slightly. "I'm sorry. I know this is difficult."

"No you don't! You can't possibly know what this feels like!" Carol shouted. Her expression was suddenly wild and furious even despite her tears. "You've destroyed our family! Our life!"

She was right, so Amanda said nothing.

* * *

Amanda found a bright pink bottle of Pepto Bismol in the medicine cabinet after dinner. Unscrewing the cap, she took a swig of it without bothering to pour out a dose. Who had time to fumble with that tiny, stupid cup anyway? Certainly not somebody suffering from not-just-morning sickness.

"Real lady-like, Rollins," Sonny remarked sarcastically as he walked by the open door of the bathroom.

She wordlessly glared at him as he passed by. If she had had the energy, she would have yelled at him.

When she eventually walked out into the living room, she found Sonny sitting on the couch, tinkering with a record player on the coffee table. He had been trying to fix it for weeks after inheriting it from an uncle and she was beginning to get tired of seeing it collect dust on various surfaces. She was just about to make a comment about it going back to his parents' house when Sonny announced, "I think I did it. I think I got it."

"Uh huh," Amanda responded skeptically, making her way into the kitchen for a glass of water so she could wash away the cloying medicinal taste in her mouth.

"Seriously!" he insisted. He began to rifle through the accompanying box of records.

"A cop, a lawyer, a record player technician... what will it be next?" she asked dryly over her glass. She was tired and uncomfortable from the early stage of pregnancy and the days (and nights) of paperwork that had followed the arrest of Dr. Garner.

To her surprise, the adjoining rooms suddenly filled with the easy melody of 'Witchcraft' by Frank Sinatra. The sound crackled a bit at first, but there was no denying that Sonny had finally gotten the thing to work.

"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you over my _success_ ," Sonny gloated, standing up.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she sighed once she was back in the living room. She crossed her arms over her chest and eyed the record player; she still thought it was ugly.

Sonny grabbed at one of her arms, pulling her toward him, a mischievous glint in his eye. She made a show of moving toward him, like a teenager embarrassed by an overzealous parent, but there was a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Soon her hand was in his, his arm around her waist, the two of them slow dancing in the middle of the living room. When the beat picked up slightly, he extended his arm so she could spin around and she couldn't help but laugh as she twirled. He caught her again, their bodies flush, his forehead dipped to rest against hers.

"What d'you think it is? The baby, I mean," Sonny asked quietly as they swayed.

Amanda toyed the hair at the nape of his neck. "A girl."

"How come?"

"I dunno. It's just... a feeling. I knew Jesse was a girl, too. I used to have dreams about baby girls right before I found out I was pregnant with her."

Eyes shut momentarily, Amanda fleetingly thought of the Garners, how devastated their family must have been. They would never be whole again. She squeezed Sonny's hand tighter, grateful that this was her life, that she grew more complete by the day.

* * *

Was she getting fat already?

Amanda studied herself in the gym locker room, showered and ready to head to the precinct. Her hand settled on her stomach beneath her shirt, atop the abs she was so proud of, wondering how long she would be able to get away with keeping this pregnancy a secret. It was too soon to need new clothes, but she _felt_ so different that it was hard to imagine that others didn't notice it, too. After a few more twists and turns in front of the mirror, she adjusted her blouse, holstered her gun and put on her coat to leave.

Outside, it was frigid. It was seven o'clock in the morning and still dark out. She walked away from the gym with her phone in her hand, her eyes flitting between e-mails and the path ahead of her.

"Help! Detective Rollins!"

Amanda heard a female voice call to her distantly from an alley to her right. She stopped on the sidewalk, putting her phone back in her jacket pocket. Looking around, she didn't see anybody in her vicinity who appeared to be in distress, just a few people hurrying through the street to get out of the cold. Cautiously, Amanda headed toward where she thought she heard the voice coming from.

"Hello?" she called, progressing further down the dark concrete corridor.

She sensed someone behind her and became instantly aware that her gun was underneath her zippered coat, not as easily accessible as it usually was. Amanda turned around quickly only to be met with something hard and heavy colliding violently with the side of her head.

Everything went black.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Slow few days at work ahead = more updates!

* * *

"Okay, where the hell is Rollins?" Liv sighed to anybody in the squad room who would listen, looking around at nine forty-five that morning. She didn't sound angry, just exasperated.

"I haven't heard from her this morning," Fin said from his desk.

"She left for the gym at five this mornin', said she'd see me here," Sonny offered as an explanation.

"Well, it's almost ten o'clock. This is bad, even for her," Liv replied.

"I tried textin' her, she hasn't responded," Sonny added.

"You don't think..." Liv trailed off, but everybody knew what she was implying.

"Nah, Liv. She's straight," Fin assured her.

"You sure about that?" Liv responded.

Sonny bridled visibly, defensive, but also growing increasingly more worried. "Trust me, Lieu, she's not gamblin'."

His tone was firm enough that Liv didn't challenge him. "Somebody find her," Liv concluded.

Once their lieutenant walked away, Fin looked expectantly over at Sonny. "Where would she be?"

"I dunno. I mean, she likes the gym, but not that much. And she knows Liv is always on her ass about bein' late," Sonny murmured. Concern was beginning to etch itself on his face. Isn't that where she said she was going that morning? He had still been half asleep, not nearly as ambitious as she was when the sun wasn't up and he hadn't had at least two cups of coffee...

Fin shook his head, but he agreed, "something's up."

Sonny's phone vibrated in his back pocket and he quickly retrieved it, anxious. He had hoped the message was from Amanda, but instead it was Audrey, confirming that Amanda hadn't returned to the apartment that morning. He tossed his iPhone onto the surface of his desk. "This isn't right. She's been totally obsessed with this case and she'd never just not show up."

Fin stood up and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. "Why don't we go down to the gym, see if they know anything?"

That's what solidified Sonny's fear: to get Fin uneasy was a feat, but he was putting on his jacket and heading for the door without a word to Liv, like this was too urgent to waste time asking for permission.

* * *

"You know her?" Fin held his phone up for the tan, toned girl at the front desk at BFX Studio on 6th Avenue of the Americas. Amanda's photo looked out at her from the screen.

"Oh yeah, that's Amanda. She's been coming here for years," the bubbly trainer said.

"She here today?" Fin asked.

"Yeah, my five forty-five boxing class. She's badass, one of my best," she replied enthusiastically.

"Did you see her leave?" Sonny asked anxiously.

The trainer's brow furrowed. "Yeah. She looked like she was dressed for work, around seven. She said 'bye' to me on her way out, she always does."

* * *

 _"Go, Mandy! You're smokin' those girls!"_

 _She was running. Sprinting. Flying. She was twelve years old and racing toward the finish line, her competitors pounding the rubberized pavement in her wake. They should have known better than to challenge her that day: her father was in the stands and she'd be damned if she would disappoint him._

 _Just a few more feet. Eyes narrow, lungs on fire, her long legs made huge strides toward the end of the track. She almost collapsed with joy when she knew her toe crossed the line before all of the others, but she skidded to a stop to watch her competitors join her, all of them appearing dismayed, defeated._

 _On the sidelines, her father wrapped her skinny frame up in a big, bear hug. He smelled like whiskey and cigarettes. "That's my girl, that's my Mandy," he told his oldest daughter proudly. "A winner just like her daddy."_

Amanda was in Loganville - and then she wasn't. She wanted to hold onto the warmth of the memory, but it slipped away quickly like she was trying to keep water in cupped palms. Slowly, she became more aware of her body: one side of her head was in searing pain, all of her limbs sore. Her vision slid in and out of focus; it was making her dizzy trying to get her bearings. She tried to move to rub her eyes, but her hands were behind her back, wrists trapped in handcuffs - her own handcuffs, she gradually realized.

She was sitting down against a cold concrete wall. The room was dark and musty, like a basement. Whose basement? How did she get there? Where was her coat? And her gun? She shook her head to try to get some clarity, but that only made her skull throb and she was immediately nauseous from the pain. She wasn't quite alert enough to be afraid, not until she heard the creak of footsteps coming down the wooden steps. Adrenaline rocketed through her veins, forcing Amanda's eyes wide open.

"You're awake," a female voice observed.

A light came on over head, illuminating the woman who now stood before her. Carol Garner smiled down at Amanda Rollins.

"What... what the hell are you doing?" Amanda heard herself sputter.

Carol crouched to Amanda's level. "Your head looks like it hurts," she observed, her voice dripping with faux sympathy.

Terrified and confused, Amanda pressed her back further into the wall, keeping space between her and Carol. Her instinct was to scream, but could anyone hear her? She had to think like a police officer but it was so hard, she was so foggy and disoriented. She pulled big breaths into her lungs, trying to keep her facial expression neutral. "What am I doing here?"

Carol stood up and began to wander around the little basement. "I looked at your phone before I tossed it," she said casually, as if she hadn't heard Amanda's question. "You have a very pretty family."

Amanda's heart was beating so fast she thought she would be sick. This was revenge. This woman, a nurse and a mother of two, was angry enough at Amanda to take her hostage. She had underestimated Carol's desperation that night at the precinct; she had written her off as just another distraught family member, just another helpless spouse.

Now it was Amanda who was helpless.

* * *

It didn't take long: the squad quickly determined that Amanda was missing. Liv was fast to mobilize the rest of NYPD and put a trace on the detective's phone, which was tracked to an apartment in Brooklyn rented by a man by the name of Adam Merrill.

There, a 20-something-year-old sat alone on a dingy couch, his laptop on the coffee table, Amanda's phone plugged into the USB port. He leapt up as police broke down his front door, appropriately stunned by the violence of their unexpected entrance.

"Where is she?" Fin demanded loudly as the other officers spread out in the tiny apartment.

"What, what are you-" Adam sputtered.

Sonny grabbed Adam by his stupid plaid shirt and slammed his back against the living room wall. "That phone. Where'd you get it?"

Adam put his hands up in surrender, his body trembling in Sonny's grip, eyes wide with fear. "I found it! I found it! In Manhattan, it was sitting on top of a trash can. I thought I could delete the memory and sell it!"

" _Do not lie to me,_ " Sonny threatened angrily, teeth gritted and jaw clenched.

"I swear! I swear, man, I just found it this afternoon," Adam stammered. "You can take it, I don't want it!"

"Let him go, Carisi. All the rooms are clear. She's not here. This punk doesn't have her," Fin instructed Sonny.

Sonny's eyes narrowed on Adam. For a moment he wondered if it would feel good to punch him, like that would serve as a sufficient outlet for his mounting anxiety. Slowly, he released his grasp on Adam's shirt, and with one final, unnecessary shove, he let him go.

He snatched the phone off of the charging cord connected to the laptop. Jesse and Frannie's faces grinned up at him from the home screen. Sonny couldn't help himself: he started thumbing through the device, looking for any clue as to where Amanda was. Kim had texted her sister a bible verse that morning, then Audrey said she was running late. Sonny's messages - he was still 'Carisi' in her contacts, just like she was 'Rollins' in his - were followed by Fin and Liv in her inbox, all of them unread. Her e-mail was filled with SVU correspondence and store advertisements. His heart sunk in his chest.

"Get this to the lab for prints," Sonny told a uniformed officer distractedly, handing over the iPhone. He almost didn't want to let it go, like it was his only tangible link to Amanda, but he watched the officer seal it up in a plastic evidence bag anyway.

* * *

"What's your daughter's name?" Carol asked her.

Amanda glared at her in silence.

Carol reached into the pocket of her jeans, pulling out a small, orange-capped syringe. She rolled it through her fingers while eyeing Amanda. "I'm a nurse, you know. At Bellevue," she explained. She appeared thoughtful before reciting, "Jesse Rollins, born December thirtieth at 4:01 p.m. Seven pounds, two ounces. You both almost died on the operating table, you from loss of blood, Jesse from lack of oxygen." She smiled. "No father on the birth certificate. Just you."

Her jaw clenched. If she hadn't felt violated before, she certainly did now. She swallowed hard. "What do you want from me?" Amanda asked quietly, her eye on the syringe Carol was toying with.

"I remember when my first son was born. Jacob. Such an easy baby. Same with Christopher," she went on. Suddenly, a shadow crossed her face. "They are good boys. They deserve more than this, better than this. Better than what you did to them. You get to live your happy little life while ours is turned upside down. While I have to raise my children without a father." Amanda watched Carol's chest rise and fall rapidly as she became more and more agitated. "I lost my job, you know. They don't trust me working with people anymore, they think _I_ knew something about what my husband was doing. Nobody understands how I couldn't have known, nobody understands that I could never even imagine that the person I've been married to for ten years is capable of... of what he did."

For a fleeting moment, Amanda felt badly for her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you have to go through-"

"Shut up," Carol interrupted, her voice tremulous. She held up the syringe shakily. "See this? It's pure insulin. Do you know what happens when a non-diabetic gets a shot of this? Extreme hypoglycemia, your blood sugar plummets. Then you go into shock, then a coma, then... you die."

Amanda's first thought wasn't a fear of death, it was a fear of surviving after that injection potentially did irreversible damage to the child she was currently carrying. She tried not to let her panic show on her face. "Look, please, you don't have to do this. I can help you and your kids. Let me help you," Amanda said levelly. "But you need to let me go."

"Oh, you're going to help me, alright," Carol snapped. "You're going to get your D.A. on the phone and you're going to have him make a deal with my husband's lawyer. No prison time, he needs psychiatric help."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Mrs. Garner, you and I both know that's not going to-"

"Shut up!" Carol shrieked, stamping her foot like a child. "God, you are so stupid. I have you in your own handcuffs and nobody knows where you are. I could kill you right now and nobody would have a goddamn clue-"

"Okay, okay," Amanda interrupted quickly. She was willing to do anything to buy herself more time. "But without my phone, I don't know his number..."

"Don't you worry about that, I got everything I needed out of your phone. See, I think ahead, unlike you. You thought you could do this to my family and get away with it."


	8. Chapter 8

"Rollins, what can I do for you?" Barba's familiar voice came across the speaker of the phone, which Carol was holding against Amanda's ear. The syringe hung from her free hand menacingly.

"I, um, I need a favor," Amanda said.

"What kind of favor, dare I ask? Not for Kim, I hope," he responded.

"No, no. Not for Kim." She paused, her mind racing. She was having trouble keeping the emotion out of her tone; it was difficult to hear the sound of somebody so familiar and be so terribly far away from them. "I need you to try to make a deal, for Dr. Garner."

"Rollins, have you lost your mind?" Barba laughed. "Need I remind you that this guy murdered two women, nearly killed another and raped all three? He totally abused his power as a-"

"Barba," Amanda interrupted loudly, her voice shaking slightly with urgency and anxiety. She wanted to scream for help, but she knew better than that. She had to play Carol's game until she could determine an alternative. Quietly, she continued, "I think he needs help. More help than prison will give, y'know? His family wants to see him get treatment. He's got kids..."

Barba was silent on the other end of the line for what felt like forever. "Detective... are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just need you to do this for me, for the Garner family," she lied, false levity in her voice.

"Let me, uh, talk it over. See what I can do," Barba concluded, not sounding at all convinced.

Carol glared at Amanda, prompting her to add, "call me back here. On this number. My phone is broken."

* * *

Rafael Barba was so genuinely confused by Amanda's request that he showed up at the precinct to talk to her. Instead of finding her at her desk, however, he walked into an almost empty squad room. He found Liv in her office, her desk phone to her ear and her iPhone in her free hand, mid-conversation. He hovered patiently in the doorway.

"Lieutenant," Barba greeted her with a little nod when she hung up.

"Barba, what can I do for you?" Liv replied, appearing distracted.

"I'm looking for Rollins."

Liv looked up at him suddenly. "So am I." She rubbed at her eyes. "We don't know where she is."

Barba's brows knitted together. "You don't know?" he repeated, confused. "I just talked to her."

"What?" Liv exclaimed. "When? Where is she?"

"About an hour ago. I thought she was here," he explained slowly. "She called me with this completely ridiculous request to make a deal for Garner. I had to come down here and see if she needed a psych eval herself-"

"Oh, God. This makes so much sense. Damnit," the lieutenant groaned, shaking her head. "Rollins told me that she spent almost two hours dealing with the hysterical wife last week. I didn't realize that she would be capable of something like this, that she would be that unhinged..."

"Something like what?" Barba asked, still not understanding. "Liv, what's going on?"

Liv stood up and began hastily gathering up her things as she explained, "Amanda's been missing since this morning. She never came to work, we found her phone in Brooklyn after some kid picked it up from the trash in Manhattan. The entire squad has been out trying to find her."

His eyes widened in horror. "You're kidding me. I knew she didn't sound like herself."

Liv grabbed her coat off the rack and began to put it on. "I've gotta get to the rest of the squad. We've got to go to the Garner's house. I'll bet you anything she has her there."

"I'll go with you. It's me Mrs. Garner wants to do business with," Barba said firmly before he followed the lieutenant out the door.

* * *

"How long does this stuff take?" Carol demanded, pacing anxiously with her phone in her hand.

"He'll get back to us. He's efficient." Amanda wanted to close her eyes, her head felt so sore and heavy. She was weak and her wrists and back ached. "Your kids... won't they be home soon?"

"I had to send them to my mother's in Massachusetts to keep them away from the media, they're confused, they have no idea what to think," she explained irritably. "Don't change the subject. It's been almost two hours since-" She stopped, her phone ringing and buzzing. She showed Amanda the screen and demanded, "who is this? Whose number is this?"

She squinted. Her heart leapt when she recognized the caller as Liv. "I don't know," she lied.

"You're lying to me," Carol hissed, declining the call. She bent down to Amanda's level with the syringe in front of her face. "Do not lie to me."

"Okay, okay. It's my lieutenant," Amanda admitted, flinching.

"Why the hell is she calling me?" Carol yelled, standing up straight again.

" _I don't know_ ," she insisted slowly, but she did know. Barba had tipped Liv off to their strange conversation and Liv had put the pieces together.

The phone rang again with Liv's number. Carol appeared to be unraveling before Amanda's eyes, her free hand grabbing to pull at her hair, sweat forming on her pale forehead as she resumed pacing.

"You're just going to make her more curious if you don't answer," Amanda advised carefully.

"Shut _up_!" Carol screamed, eyes wild. She shoved her phone in her back pocket before roughly uncapping the syringe she had been carrying around. "I am doing this for my kids. And I will do _anything_ for them." She approached Amanda and dropped to her knees in front of the detective.

"Please don't do this, you don't want to do this," Amanda begged. For the first time since she found herself a hostage she felt tears stinging her eyes, now totally consumed by her terror. She frantically tried to use her legs to inch away from Carol, the heels of her boots digging into the dirty floor. The moment she began to kick, Carol rested her body weight on her limbs and held Amanda's head back against the wall, her grip tight in the younger woman's hair.

"Wait, wait!" Amanda pleaded breathlessly, desperately. She looked Carol in the eye, hoping to align herself with the totally broken woman who had her an inch from death. "I'm a mom just like you, Carol. You don't want to leave your boys alone and I don't want to leave my daughter. I know there's a way we can both come outta this and still be there for our kids."

Carol was motionless. For a brief moment, Amanda thought she was reconsidering.

"You think I feel bad for you?" Carol finally whispered incredulously. Then she began to laugh. "You stupid bitch. You think I care whether or not your kid has you? Why should you get to go on living when my life is over?"

Amanda thought of her sweet Jesse, blissfully unaware of what was taking place in that basement, probably baking cookies with Audrey or watching Frozen for the millionth time. She was so loving and curious and bursting with energy, Amanda was lucky to have her for a daughter. Jesse had saved her from herself and all she had wanted to do was give her a happy life in return, to make sure she always knew that she was adored unconditionally. She was certain that Jesse would have been a wonderful big sister, and that the joy Amanda would have derived from raising two children together would have been bigger and brighter than anything she could have ever imagined.

Amanda thought of Sonny, the man she loved so much, so fiercely. Her feelings for him still took her breath away. He gave her the sort of existence she never knew she wanted, the sort she never imagined was possible - at least not for her, anyway. Why didn't she ever tell him that her warmest fantasies were of Sunday dinners at his parents' house in Staten Island and a smiling baby with his blue-gray eyes, about holidays and vacations and Tuesday nights that were good just because they were a family? Why didn't she ever tell him that when he coddled or lectured her that underneath her annoyance was immense, overwhelming gratitude that she simply couldn't put into the right words? She would have been proud to name Sonny as her unborn child's father, to watch him nurture and care for a baby just as he had so selflessly done with Jesse.

She thought of Kim, content in bible study group that morning. They had been through so much together, they had endured a life of chaos and darkness but had come out on the other side. Amanda didn't give Kim an iota of credit for the way she had turned her circumstances around - she should have, she deserved it. She was her baby sister, a part of her, a clever, funny girl who was resilient as hell. She may not have always made the best choices, but Amanda would have walked through the fire over and over again just to keep her safe. Who would do that now? Who would protect her from the world - from herself?

She even thought of her mother, who she secretly knew had always been hurting. Now she would feel a different kind of pain. Amanda had wasted so many years trying to punish her, blaming her for her father's departure, when her mother was simply trying to take care of her children the only way she knew how.

And Frannie Mae, her loyal companion, even when the rest of the universe was against her. Would somebody take her in when she was gone? Would they tie bandannas around her neck or sneak her popcorn on the couch? Would they love her as Amanda did, not as an animal, but as a best friend?

Fueled by a desperate desire to live among those she cared for, Amanda mustered all of the energy she possessed to try to kick Carol off of her, away from her, but it wasn't enough. She was too heavy and Amanda was too weak, trapped in a vulnerable position that didn't allow her to fight.

"Don't make this difficult," Carol ordered through gritted teeth as she restrained Amanda, point of the needle held flush against the detective's exposed neck.


	9. Chapter 9

Inside the ESU van, Barba sat with Liv and Chief Dodds. They were in one of several NYPD vehicles that now blocked off the Garner's street, every officer ready and waiting to make a move based on Liv's hunch. If Amanda wasn't at the Garner's house, at least there was a possibility that they could get more information from whoever was inside. Either way, a fellow officer was somewhere in distress, and NYPD protected their own fiercely and without hesitation.

"Call her," Dodds ordered Barba, standing up. "It's clear she won't pick up for Benson."

Barba nodded, redialing the number Amanda had called him on earlier. It only rang twice before Mrs. Garner's shaky voice came across the speaker. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Garner. It's ADA Rafael Barba. Detective Rollins contacted me about your husband's case," Barba greeted her smoothly. It was rare he was a part of a potential hostage negotiation, but he would be damned if he didn't do what he could to be of help that day. He and Amanda butted heads from time to time, but he admired her passion and dedication to her work.

"What took you so long?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry about the wait. I want to talk to you about helping your husband, but you've got to do something for me, too," Barba explained slowly, glancing between Dodds and Liv as he spoke. "I need you to let Detective Rollins go."

"Let her go? She's not going anywhere, she can't even walk. You'll have to carry her out of here," Mrs. Garner said with a maniacal laugh.

The three of them looked at one another; Liv appeared pained, even a little bit afraid. Now they had confirmation that Amanda was inside.

"Is she hurt?" Barba asked carefully.

"I don't give a damn about her! Does anybody care about _me_? Anybody wonder how _I'm_ doing?"

"Mrs. Garner-"

"You all are so damn concerned about those dead girls, about your detective - who's concerned for me, huh? Who is looking out for me and my boys? I have spent my whole life caring about other people and now when I need it, nobody can do anything for me!" Mrs. Garner shrieked.

"She's at the living room window," an ESU officer's voice crackled across the radio.

Eyes on Dodds and Liv, Barba continued, "I want to try to-"

He was met with the dial tone, indicating that Mrs. Garner had hung up. Then the sound of a single gunshot rang through the air.

* * *

ESU found Mrs. Garner lying dead in a pool of her own blood in the living room. She had shot herself with Amanda's gun.

Inside of the apartment, Liv, Fin and Chief Dodds began calling Amanda's name, but nobody was yelling louder than Sonny. They tore through bedrooms and closets before Sonny yanked open the old cellar door, inconspicuous at the back of the kitchen. His feet pounded down the wooden stairs, Fin following close behind him.

He stopped at the base of the steps when he saw her: Amanda was slumped lifelessly against the wall, her blonde hair covering her face, her hands behind her back. Sonny felt his entire world shrink down to the confines of that basement.

"Damn. We need a bus, now!" Sonny heard Fin shout as he ran back upstairs.

Sonny rushed toward Amanda, dropping down to his knees on the concrete in front of her. Two fingers went to press against the side of her neck, but he paused when he noticed a small, red puncture wound there. "Oh, my God," he murmured, unable to even begin to fathom what had taken place that day. He couldn't think too deeply about it - not then and maybe not ever - because he needed every ounce of steadiness and reason he possessed to get Amanda out of there.

He thought he felt the faint rhythm of a pulse - but then again, he was unwilling to entertain the alternative. Sonny shook Amanda's shoulders, then grabbed her chin, moving her head upright. "Amanda? Hey, Amanda!" he called to her frantically, moving her hair away from her eyes. The small, gold necklace with the spearhead charm she wore everyday was tangled in her blonde strands, the delicate chain broken, like somebody had ripped it from her body. A large bruise stood out along the side of her head and face.

"C'mon, Amanda, you're okay," he whispered reassuringly, moving to quickly unlock the handcuffs she was bound in. He tossed them aside haphazardly and returned his hands to either side of Amanda's face, trying to will her eyes open. "You're okay."

But she wasn't: she didn't respond, not even a blink or a twitch or a breath to indicate that she had heard him or felt his skin against hers. She was as still as he had ever seen her.

"Where the hell is that bus?" Sonny yelled over his shoulder. He was so angry he felt like his heart would explode out of his chest. He was even more afraid.

He couldn't wait any longer. He pulled her necklace from her hair and held it tight in his fist. He hooked an arm under Amanda's knees and shoulders to lift her up off the ground, her limbs heavy and loose as he carried her as quickly as he could upstairs. He was vaguely aware of Liv and Fin's presence, saw their expressions of panic and confusion out of the corner of his eye as ESU worked around them. Sonny was more focused on the EMTs as they rushed into through the destroyed front doorway with a stretcher, one of them hastily helping him transfer Amanda's body.

As two people quickly wheeled her back outside, Sonny grabbed the arm of the last, lingering paramedic before he headed out the door. "She's pregnant," he told the EMT quietly. "And I'm goin' with you."


	10. Chapter 10

_"Daddy loves you, Mandy. Remember that."_

 _"Where are you?"_

 _"Don't worry about that. I need you to take care of your mama and Kim."_

 _"I don't think I can, daddy."_

 _"Hey, now. None of that. You're a winner just like me, remember? Of course you can. You can do anything."_

 _"Can't you just come home? I'm sure mama will apologize..."_

 _"Mama and I have... too many differences."_

 _"What will I do without you?"_

 _"You'll keep goin', Mandy. Just like you always do."_

* * *

Amanda had been separated from Sonny and the rest of the squad the moment the ambulance arrived at Bellevue. In the waiting room, Sonny and Barba sat, while Liv paced and Fin hovered.

"She's gonna be okay. Girl's got nine lives and then some," Fin offered assuredly to no one in particular.

None of them replied.

Sonny toyed with Amanda's necklace, wrapping the delicate gold chain around his fingers then unraveling it again, over and over. He was trying to silently bargain with God, as if there was something he could offer up that would tip the scales in Amanda's favor, although even in his haze of desperation, Sonny knew it didn't work that way. Life wasn't fair, he understood that he wasn't the only one hurting and that everything that happened wasn't always a direct result of God's doing. The bad was so bad but the good was amazing, and that's what his relationship with Amanda was - amazing.

It couldn't end this way, not like this: they were young, they had a life - one, singular existence that they had pieced together even despite their differences, because he needed her grit and passion and she needed his fortitude and kindness. They filled one another's empty spaces. And just when he figured he couldn't possibly love her more, she was making him a father. Sonny caught himself smiling when he thought of that, but then every time he shut his eyes he saw Amanda lifeless against that wall, her body devoid of all the energy, all the spunk that made her who she was. He was beginning to fear it was all he would ever be able to see again.

After almost an hour, a doctor appeared. He looked around at the group and asked, "are you all here for Amanda Rollins?"

"Yes, we are," Liv answered for the squad. "How is she?"

In unison they all huddled around the physician, who explained, "I'm Dr. Armstrong. Somebody gave Amanda a nearly lethal dose of insulin. She lost consciousness and she could have gone comatose if she hadn't gotten here in time. Thankfully, we were able to give her something called glucagon to reverse the effects. She has a fractured rib, too, and a pretty serious contusion to the right side of her head. Whoever did this to her must have been pretty angry."

"But she's gonna be okay?" Sonny asked anxiously.

"She's a little out of it right now because I've got her on an IV of Dilaudid for the pain, but she's awake. She's going to be fine, nothing a few days of rest can't fix." Dr. Armstrong put his hands in the pockets of his white coat and looked between the four of them. "Now, I don't have any obvious reason to believe that the baby was negatively impacted by all of this, but given that it seems like she was pretty roughed up, I'm going to have an ultrasound tech sent over soon, just to be sure."

"Whoa, the _what_?" Fin blurted.

"Can I see her?" Sonny asked, blatantly ignoring all of the eyes he felt on him in that moment.

The doctor nodded. "Of course. We have her in a room just down the hall, number seventeen."

* * *

She floated in and out of sleep, hazily aware of what was going on around her. Her limbs were too heavy to lift, her mouth too dry to speak, but nothing hurt. Awhile ago she had been amid a flurry of frantic doctors and nurses, all of them poking and prodding her while she tried to figure out exactly how she had ended up in their care. She remembered enough now and it was awful, but the colors that danced across the darkness of the inside of her eyelids made it easy to forget.

Amanda suddenly felt the warmth of somebody else's skin against her hand and her fingers responded before any other part of her could, curling toward the sensation.

"'Manda?"

She would know that voice anywhere. It took effort to open her eyes, but she was rewarded with the sight of Sonny Carisi. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, holding her hand. He looked concerned and she knew he should have, but she felt herself smiling, her head lolling to the side against the pillow.

"We gotta stop meetin' like this," Amanda mumbled playfully, her accent more pronounced than usual. Her voice sounded distant, an echo in her own head.

Sonny gave her a grin. He had the nicest smile. "Hey, there you are."

"Hi."

"How are you feelin'? You scared the hell outta me."

"I'm... good... I think," Amanda told him honestly, because she wasn't entirely sure. She lifted her free fingers in what felt like slow motion, grazing the part of her face she knew was bruised. She hoped there weren't any mirrors around.

"It's not that bad," Sonny assured her.

Amanda gave him a pointed look; even under the influence, she knew it probably had to look pretty ugly. "Jesse...?"

"She's okay, she's been home this whole time. Doesn't have a clue," he explained.

She exhaled, relieved. "They said my rib's broken and-" She stopped suddenly, a terrible thought almost instantly sobering her: the baby. Had they told her if everything was okay? Were they waiting to give her the horrible news that what while she had survived, her unborn child had not? Her glassy eyes widened with panic; whatever they were giving her in that IV, it wasn't enough. "Oh, no. The baby. I didn't tell them, at least I don't think-"

"Relax, Amanda. They know," he interrupted her gently. "The doctor said he thinks everything is okay, but they're gonna do an ultrasound soon, just in case."

"Just in case," she repeated absently. A hand rested on her abdomen, anxiety creeping up on her even despite the medication in her veins.

Her worry must have been written all over her face, because Sonny squeezed her hand and said, "I'm just glad you're okay. We're all glad. We've been runnin' around all day, lookin' for you. It was Barba who tipped us off to Garner's wife. When you called him he thought you were bein' abnormally generous."

She smiled a little. Barba. He could be a pompous know-it-all but he had saved her; she made a hazy mental note to thank him. "I should have known," Amanda mumbled. "I should have known she wasn't stable."

"Hey, c'mon now. These people don't wear signs. That's why we're paid the big bucks, remember?" he reminded her with a grin, referencing something she had told him awhile ago while he had been undercover at a shelter. With his other hand, he reached into his back pocket before dangling a gold chain from his fingers in front of her. "I managed to save this."

"My necklace," Amanda said, her tone surprised and grateful as her hand automatically went to her bare neck.

"It can be fixed. I know a jeweler in Staten Island who'll put it back together in no time," Sonny promised her.

Of course he did. He might as well have been the mayor of Staten Island. He was so... _him._ Amanda studied Sonny like she hadn't seen him in forever, as if they didn't spend almost every waking moment with one another. Maybe it was because _this_ waking moment felt particularly precious. She considered the hair that was graying at his temples, the lines that formed between his brows when he was concerned. The vest of his suit was open, his badge at his waist and gun on his hip, his sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms and his precious Apple watch, which Amanda thought she'd be glad to never see again but right then and there she was certain it was the best thing she had ever laid eyes on.

There was a quiet knock at the door, distracting Amanda and getting Sonny's attention, too. A young woman pushing a mobile ultrasound machine made her way into her room. "Amanda? I'm Natalie. Dr. Armstrong ordered you an ultrasound."

Amanda nodded, unsure of how she should be feeling. At the moment she was pleasantly woozy, but hardly oblivious enough to be immune to bad news. Sonny practically leapt to his feet to stand by the top of her bed.

"Do you want him...?" Natalie trailed off as she began to set up at Amanda's other side, eyeing Sonny.

She probably thought they were simply fellow police officers having a visit, and no, this wasn't exactly how Amanda had imagined this moment taking place, but she wasn't letting Sonny go anywhere. "He's staying."

Wires and her IV line were carefully rearranged so her gown could be moved aside to expose her abdomen. The gel was cold against her bare skin. Amanda's eyes were fixated on the ultrasound, barely cognizant of Sonny hovering over her, waiting for a sign that everything was okay.

"Alright, there's the baby..." Natalie explained, referencing the little gray and white mass that hovered in the middle of the otherwise dark screen. With her free hand, she flipped a switch on the machine and shifted the angle of the wand several times until a rhythmic beating sound filled the room. "That's what we were looking for, there's the heartbeat. It's a little slow, but you're only ten weeks pregnant, so that's normal."

Tears sprung to Amanda's eyes and she let them fall, not at all in the state to even attempt to save face. She had been more afraid that she had been willing to admit. When she was able to tear her gaze away from the screen, she looked up at Sonny, who was smiling widely, eyes shining with the sort of pride Amanda had never had the pleasure of seeing before. She tilted her head up and he leaned his down, their mouths meeting. She heard Sonny whisper _love you_ amid the series of gentle kisses they shared.

"Oh, _okay_ ," Natalie said quietly, now realizing they weren't just abnormally close co-workers. "I'll print you guys some pictures and bring them back."

"Thanks," Amanda murmured thickly as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand while Natalie cleaned off her stomach and rearranged her gown and blankets. Amanda couldn't seem to stop her tears, though, and now she wasn't even sure why she was crying. She just _was._ Maybe it was relief, maybe it was the hormones or the drugs or some combination of it all. Maybe it was the fact that she had been so terrified to die but now she was there, the both of them very much alive.

Once Natalie was gone, Sonny sunk back down on the edge of the bed close beside Amanda. He didn't say anything, just turned his body so he could pull her into a hug. She clung to him and swore it was nicest embrace she had ever been a part of - and that made her emotional, too.

"I don't know why I'm crying," she croaked into the crook of his neck, her tears dampening the collar of his shirt as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Sonny didn't press her for an explanation, just held her like that for awhile.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** More drama and cute stuff to come in the chapters ahead... a touch of PTSD, Carisi's overbearing parents, somebody to help the squad out while Amanda's on restricted duty... oh my!

* * *

Three days later, it was Sunday afternoon and she was alone in her apartment. In sweatpants and a college t-shirt, hair in a sloppy braid, Amanda hovered over the stove while the kettle heated up with her eyes on the living room television. She had been watching E! for three straight hours and it was delightfully mind-numbing. That was what Amanda was after: something petty and shiny and superficial that distracted her for awhile. She hadn't slept well since leaving the hospital two days ago; she felt like every time she tried to close her eyes she was crawling out of her skin. Her ribs ached and so did her head, although at least her bruises were fading.

There was a knock at her door but she wasn't expecting anyone. Through the peephole, Amanda saw Liv, holding what appeared to be a bakery box in her hand. She had seen her only briefly at the hospital, although she had called and texted Amanda to check in (and to make sure she wasn't going to try to show up at work).

Amanda pulled open the door. She was too tired to care what she looked like or to worry about the current state of her apartment. "Liv, hi. Everything okay?"

Her lieutenant smiled kindly at her. "Everything's fine. I thought I'd drop by, see how you were doing." She lifted up the box. "I brought cookies."

She motioned for Liv to come inside. "Come in, have a seat. I was just making some tea. Want some?"

"I'd love some," she said as she followed Amanda into the kitchen and sat at the small table. She draped her coat on the back of her chair. "It's freezing out there."

"Yeah, looks like it." Amanda snatched the remote off of the counter to quickly turn off the reality television shows she knew Liv despised, embarrassed. She pulled down another mug from a cabinet, back turned to Liv, but she could feel her watching her. Or at least - she thought that she did.

"Where is everybody?" Liv asked curiously.

"Sonny is with Jesse in Staten Island. They went to church and then lunch with his parents," Amanda explained.

"Church, huh? You didn't go?"

Amanda glanced over her shoulder. She didn't always like discussing her personal life with Liv - it made her feel vulnerable, which she had never been very good at. "I'm not the biggest fan of organized religion," she admitted sheepishly, carefully pouring hot water over the two tea bags. "Jesse doesn't really know what's going on, she's in it for the meatballs." A cup in each hand, she walked over to the table to sit across from Liv, wincing a bit at the jolt of pain she felt in her side as she changed positions. "Plus, I'm not exactly looking my best."

Liv's brow furrowed in concern. "How are you feeling?"

She toyed with the tag of her tea bag. "If I take the medication they gave me, not bad. I'll be back to work Tuesday, don't worry. I know we're short-staffed."

"Amanda..." Liv began slowly, her head tilting in an effort to make eye contact with her. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Amanda asked, looking up, confused.

Liv gave her a pointed look, one that clearly said 'are you serious?' "That you're pregnant."

Her eyes widened, caught off guard. How the hell had she figured that out? Certainly not by the small swell of her stomach - she thought she had been hiding it pretty well. Amanda felt her cheeks heating up and peered down into her tea. "I was... gettin' around to it..."

She heard Liv sigh, felt the lieutenant studying her. "Look, I know that I've been really hard on you..."

Amanda took a sip from her mug in order to avoid responding.

"You're a good detective," Liv continued. "But more importantly, you're a good person. After everything you've been through I've become a little... protective over you, a little cautious, and I know you hate that."

"Mm."

Liv reached across the table and set her hand on Amanda's wrist. She was smiling. "There's more to life than SVU. It took me a really long time to figure that out. I don't want it to take you as many years as it took me."

"Trust me, Liv. After what happened the other day... I get it," Amanda murmured, looking back into her tea.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Amanda scrunched her nose. "Not really, no."

"I figured you'd say that. You give Carisi this hard of a time, too?" There was a hint of playfulness in Liv's voice.

She offered Liv a small, self-deprecating grin. "I give everybody a hard time."

Liv opened the bakery box between them, revealing six giant chocolate chip cookies sitting neatly in parchment paper. "That's not true, Amanda. You and I, we've always had to keep everything locked up to survive the old boys' club, to tolerate all the 'Thin Blue Line' crap and prove ourselves as equal. It screws us over when our badges are off."

"I've been working on it. Sonny kinda... well, he wears you down after awhile," Amanda admitted.

"He's the salt of the earth. He's good for you, but don't forget - you're good for him, too," Liv said emphatically. She passed Amanda a cookie. "All I'm asking is that you take care of yourself, of your family. Especially now. I'll never think less of you for doing that."

Amanda met Liv's eyes and felt a sudden swell of gratitude. "Copy that, Lieutenant."

* * *

When Amanda called her mother, Beth Anne didn't pick up the phone with a 'hello.'

"How come I had to find out _on the news_ that my oldest daughter was held hostage by some lunatic?"

"Mama-"

"I mean, really? You don't think that's somethin' you could find the time to share with your mama?"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm calling you now, aren't I? I only have a minute, but I have something else to tell you."

"Oh, Lord, Amanda, please-"

"I'm pregnant."

"On purpose?"

"Technically no, but I think it's a good thing."

"Whose is it?"

"It's Sonny's, obviously. I mean, we live together..."

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"Seriously?"

"I'm just sayin'."

"Uh huh."

"Well, I'm happy for you two. Although at this rate you're never gonna make it to sergeant..."

"Don't start that. Look, I gotta go, but... mama?"

"Hm?"

"Love you."

There was a long pause; Beth Anne's surprise was palpable all the way in New York City. "Love you, too, baby."

* * *

"Here. I got you a 'welcome back to desk duty' bagel."

They were the first two to arrive at the squad room that morning. Fin dropped a giant bagel wrapped up in white paper on Amanda's desk in front of her, followed by two small containers of cream cheese.

"Cinnamon raisin?" She raised both eyebrows expectantly as he took a seat across from her.

"C'mon, of course. I know you." Then it was his turn to lift an eyebrow as he added sarcastically, "although apparently not as well as I thought..."

It was obvious to her what Fin was implying. "I was going to tell you."

"When? When the kid was born?"

"You're bein' dramatic." She began to unwrap her breakfast, starving.

"You tell Carisi everything."

"Well, I kinda had to share this one with him, Fin..."

Fin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyeing her skeptically.

"What?" Amanda sighed, exasperated. She looked up from assembling her bagel. "You getting soft on me?"

"I'm just sayin'. You're my partner. I like to know these things."

She knew what he meant: they had been through a lot over the years and he cared about her, not just as a colleague but as a friend. "Sorry," Amanda finally said sheepishly, then asked playfully, "if I name the baby Fin, will you forgive me?"

"I'll think about it," Fin retorted, smiling at her.


	12. Chapter 12

In the middle of the night Amanda sat upright in bed, heart beating loudly in her ears, skin sticky with sweat. She was terrified, suddenly possessed by the fear that Jesse was gone. She had seen it all so clearly, watched her kicking and screaming and begging for her mother while Amanda was helpless, hands trapped behind her back, watching Jesse being dragged away.

Dressed only in the over-sized t-shirt she fell asleep in, Amanda jumped out of bed. Sensing her urgency, Frannie followed her closely toward Jesse's room. She swung open her daughter's door, eyes wide with panic, only to find the little girl sound asleep in her bed, oblivious to her mother's distress. Amanda covered her mouth with a tremulous hand, trying to catch her breath and ground herself to the present: she was home, she was safe, she was losing her mind...

She moved from Jesse's room. Walking away, she practically jumped out of her skin when a light came on and she encountered Sonny, who she had clearly woken up moments earlier.

"What's the matter?" he asked anxiously, his voice gravelly from sleep. He looked around like he was anticipating something, someone.

"I... nothing. Just... nothing," Amanda said stupidly. Now she was embarrassed. She began to walk past him toward the bedroom, not wanting to disturb Jesse. "Sorry I woke you up."

He followed her. When she felt his hand on her arm, she flinched automatically and he pulled away. It was like all of her nerve-endings were in overdrive.

"Hey," Sonny said, closing the door behind them. "You're shakin' like a leaf. What's wrong?"

Was she? She tied her hair up into a sloppy ponytail before crawling back underneath the sheets, which felt hot and uncomfortable. "I'm fine."

"Don't do that. Don't shut me out."

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Sonny. Come on," she groaned, putting her face in her hands. She wasn't really aggravated with him, she was annoyed with herself.

"Yeah, I know, it's two o'clock in the morning and you just jumped outta bed like a crazy person," Sonny retorted as she felt his weight join her in the bed.

Amanda dropped her hands into her lap. Suddenly, her side was throbbing, probably from how quickly she had gone from laying down to sitting up. The doctor had told her that her ribs could take up to eight weeks to heal. She reached over to her bedside table to unscrew the cap off of one of the medicine bottles she kept there.

"You've been sleepin' like shit for two weeks. Y'think maybe it's time you talked to somebody?" Sonny suggested. She knew he was implying that she see a psychiatrist.

"Nope," Amanda said thickly with a mouth filled with water and three Tylenol.

"Then you think maybe you could talk to me?"

She swallowed the pills and looked over at Sonny. He didn't look angry, he looked concerned, and she felt guilty. Amanda slumped back against the headboard, defeated. A hand rested on her stomach, which she could no longer deny was growing. She hadn't talked much at all about what had happened to her, wanting to appear unaffected, but it was hard to hide much from somebody who shared her bed - and soon, a child.

"Every time I close my eyes lately, I feel... paralyzed. And I'll fall asleep for a little while, because I'm tired pretty much all the time... but my dreams are so vivid," she explained slowly, looking straight ahead. "It's the same thing: I'm trapped, always in some kind of position where I can't get my body to do what my mind knows I have to. Earlier I could have sworn Jesse was gone. I saw her, I _saw_ her being taken. It was happening right in front of me."

She cast a tentative glance over at Sonny, who was leaned against the headboard, too, watching her. Once she started talking, she couldn't seem to stop, like a floodgate had been opened. "I don't think I've ever been as afraid as I was a few weeks ago - and I've been really afraid before. I remember when Nick and I were trapped in that school with that kid Holden. I told you about him, remember? I was scared, but not _that_ scared. Maybe because I felt like I didn't have that much to lose, which is sad to say out loud, but... now it's different."

There was a lump rising in her throat. "I really thought I was gonna die. I didn't think I'd ever see you again, and that somebody was gonna have to tell Jesse that I..." She paused, the quiver in her voice indicating that she wouldn't be able to complete her sentence and stay composed. She exhaled audibly, looked over at Sonny again and concluded, "y'know."

Sonny nodded solemnly. He shifted so he was close to Amanda, an arm stretching around her. She leaned into him, head against his bare shoulder, knees curled upward to rest lazily against his lap. His free palm rested against the swell of her abdomen, his thumb moving absently back and forth over the soft fabric of her t-shirt. He didn't say anything for a little while, but Amanda didn't necessarily need him to. He was a good listener, when she let him.

"Remember when Liv and I went to Tom Cole's house, when he had Quinn?" Sonny finally spoke, his voice quiet and thoughtful. "And he had totally lost it, put his gun right to my head. I remember feelin' the end of the barrel on my forehead; I'll never forget that. That was scarier than when I actually got shot, I think, because gettin' shot happened so fast. With Cole, I had time to look him in the eye. I had time to think about all the people I loved and how he was gonna take it all from me because he could, because he was hurting..."

"I still think about him, about that day," Sonny admitted. "We see dead vics all the time. And with them I've thought to myself, 'okay, this shouldn't have happened, but their purpose here on earth must have been fulfilled.' But when it's you and death seems imminent, all you can think about is all the stuff you still have left to do, all the people you're leavin' behind..."

Amanda tilted her head upward slightly to look at him, a hand resting on his bare chest. "You've never talked about that day before."

"It's kinda grim, don't y'think? To be chattin' about near-death experiences over dinner?" Sonny replied sheepishly. "Besides, if you really think about it, our whole job is kinda one, big near-death experience."

She gave a little huff of laughter; sometimes she found an odd kind of comfort in the occasional way his cynicism matched her own. "True."

"But," Sonny continued, true to form. "We're still here."

Amanda smiled and set her hand atop of Sonny's on her stomach. "All three of us."

* * *

Amanda was certain that the living room of the Carisi's Staten Island home was the coziest place she had ever been in. Every time she was there, she was struck by the urge to wrap herself up in an afghan on their couch while the house hummed around her in its pleasant, comforting way. That evening she and Sonny had gone to his parents' for dinner, but they had an ulterior motive. His family still didn't know that Amanda was pregnant and it was going to be difficult to hide it soon - it was already proving to be challenging given her small frame. That night she wore an over-sized gray sweater atop her jeans and boots, which didn't stray much from her typical attire but did the job of disguising her stomach.

After they ate, they sat, Sonny and Amanda on the couch and his parents in opposing recliners, coffee and dessert displayed on the table between them. Amanda was constantly amazed at the way his mother was capable of throwing together full-blown, five-course meals on a moment's notice. Her own mother had only ever mastered the microwave and Amanda could barely make Jesse mac n' cheese from a box.

"You should have brought the baby," his mother whined over her coffee cup for what had to be the fifth time. She still referred to Jesse that way, even though she was three years old.

"Next time. She's at her friend's house," Amanda promised her with an earnest nod. Unsurprisingly, his family took good care of Jesse.

"Uh, that reminds me," Sonny segued from his spot beside her, as if he had actually forgotten what they had come there for.

Amanda gave him a sideways glance; being smooth wasn't necessarily his strong suit.

"Reminds you of what?" Dominick Sr. asked his son.

She wasn't going to say it, no way. Despite the fact that they were definitely adults, not fifteen year olds who had made some colossal misstep, Amanda had very clearly asserted that it was Sonny who would tell his parents about the baby. If she had to be fat and bored and then endure the pains of labor, at the very least he could be the one to break the news.

"Okay, well... Amanda's pregnant," Sonny concluded.

" _I knew it!_ " his mother shrieked, leaping from her seat.

 _How does this family have so much energy all the goddamn time?_ Amanda wondered in silence. If she hadn't come to love them so much, she would have found it really annoying. Instead she appreciated their seemingly never-ending enthusiasm, a stark contrast to her own jaded relatives.

"You did not know," Sonny challenged wearily.

"Yes, I did! Don't tell me I didn't know. It was a _feeling,_ " his mother asserted before pulling Amanda up into the tightest hug she had ever received. "I'm so happy, I'm crying!"

"This is great news, congratulations," Amanda heard Sonny's father say. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pull Sonny into a much less aggressive embrace.

Eventually, his mother allowed Amanda to sit back down on the couch. She grabbed her only son's face between her hands adoringly before hugging him, too. "Do you know what it is yet? I bet it's a boy. How far along are you?" she babbled excitedly once everyone was seated again.

"No, not yet. But I'm only thirteen weeks," Amanda said with a smile as Sonny's hand rested at the small of her back. Yes, the Carisis could be intense, but it felt good to see their excitement, to feel like a part of something bigger - a real family.

"So," his mother continued eagerly, eyes shining as she looked between Amanda and Sonny. "When are you two gonna get married?"

Amanda's heart dropped into her stomach, a wave of panic replacing the warmth she had felt seconds earlier. She thought her own mother was bold, but clearly Beth Anne Rollins had nothing on Sonny's mom.

"Oh, no, that's... no," Amanda replied immediately, almost frantically, the words leaving her mouth automatically without thinking.

Her hurried dismissal was met with dead silence, everyone exchanging glances around her. She couldn't meet Sonny's gaze, but she could feel it on her.

"I mean, that's not necessarily a thing that... needs to happen," she continued stupidly, her cheeks heating up as she dug herself deeper into a hole.

"Okay, one thing at a time. Granted, this is all in the wrong order..." his mother sighed dramatically.

Again, it was quiet. Amanda chewed the inside of her cheek anxiously, intensely aware of the way the energy in the room had shifted.

"Well," Dominick Sr. finally said cheerfully. "Who wants cannoli?"

* * *

Later that night Amanda's spoon was in a pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream, hungry again even though they had eaten at Sonny's parents' three hours prior. She couldn't stand knowing it was just sitting in the freezer, untouched. She gave a worn-out Jesse a bath and settled her into bed before putting on comfortable clothes and sitting on the couch with the entire container.

"Want some?" she asked Sonny has he wandered out from the bedroom.

"No."

She raised an eyebrow as she licked her spoon. "It's Cherry Garcia," Amanda told him, like that would change his mind.

"I don't want any," he insisted as he got himself a glass of water.

"Why are you being weird?" Amanda asked him, looking offended because she sort of was. Even if she _was_ pregnant, it would feel less gluttonous to share - or at least pretend to.

"I'm bein' weird because I don't want any ice cream?" Sonny asked with a little chuckle.

"I dunno, kinda. You eat more than any person I've ever met," Amanda explained rather ironically as she dug deeper in the rapidly disappearing pint.

"You're the one who's bein' weird today," he replied.

"Huh?"

"What was that shit with my parents?" Sonny asked, still hovering at the other side of the kitchen counter.

"What are you talking about?"

She knew what he was talking about and he knew it, too, so he just stared at her.

"That was nothing," Amanda finally offered as an explanation with a little wave of her spoon.

"Really? 'Cause it seemed like more than that."

She should have guessed that he wouldn't let her off the hook, but she didn't know how to talk about this. They never discussed it, which was a relief to Amanda - until now, of course. She found the entire concept of marriage terrifying. Sometimes she caught herself fantasizing about it, some secret piece of her going warm and fuzzy at the idea of forever, but her fear kept her from indulging in those thoughts very often. She loved Sonny so much that she was terrified marrying him would incite some kind of colossal negative shift in their dynamic. She had watched her parents' relationship disintegrate chaotically, violently, and she didn't think she could bear to repeat history with Sonny. To Amanda, all relationships were tenuous, a fragile combination of two lives that was one argument, one hardship away from falling to pieces. Things with Sonny were good - too good - and there had always been a dark part of her that was waiting for it to end. Marriage was for other people, the ones with less baggage, and while she could admire them from afar, she'd never _be_ them.

She could have said all of that and Sonny would have picked apart her faulty thinking in his gentle, curious way. She could have trusted him with it, because he cared for all of her other vulnerabilities unconditionally. Instead, out of Amanda's mouth came, "I just think it's a little old-fashioned."

Sonny didn't press her any further and although it wasn't fair, Amanda found herself disappointed.


	13. Chapter 13

Amanda went for a run that morning even though her ribs weren't totally healed yet. The cold air in her lungs and her heart thumping in her chest left her feeling energized, a nice change of pace from the way the early stage of pregnancy often had her dragging. Spirits lifted, she wasn't even dreading another day of desk duty - or at least, it didn't seem so intolerable.

In the squad room, she was combing through hours of security footage outside an Astoria convenience store where an assault had occurred yesterday, the suspect somebody they were hoping to link to another crimes. Sonny and Fin came rushing into the office from the cold, looking disgruntled in their winter coats, and for a moment Amanda was just the tiniest bit thankful that she was condemned to the warm precinct.

"Find anything?" Sonny asked her eagerly as he shed his jacket and rubbed his hands together.

"Not a thing," she admitted.

"Good, you're all back," Amanda heard Liv's voice say.

She looked to see the lieutenant standing with a woman at her side that Amanda didn't recognize. She seemed young, with wavy brown hair and big, hazel eyes, a smattering of freckles across her nose and rosy cheeks. Amanda was surprised to see that the woman had a gun and a badge hanging off of her slender frame.

"This is Detective Leah Ricci," Liv explained to the group. "Since Rollins is going to be on restricted duty for while, One PP was kind enough to offer us some back-up."

"This is Detective - excuse me, _Sergeant_ \- Tutuola," Liv began, motioning over to Fin with Leah hovering close to her side. Fin gave her a little nod of acknowledgment before Liv moved over to where Sonny was perched on the edge of his desk. "This is Detective Carisi."

"Hi. Call me Sonny," Sonny greeted her eagerly, sticking out his hand for her to shake.

Amanda was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to roll her eyes.

"And this is Detective Rollins," Liv concluded cheerfully, turning to Amanda, who managed a small smile. Looking between them all, Liv said, "so, guys, why don't you show her around the precinct? Help her get acquainted with how we do things at SVU."

"Copy that, Lieu," Sonny said with a nod.

When Liv walked away, Amanda practically chased her into her office, shutting the door behind them. Liv looked at her expectantly as she sat down at her desk.

"What's up?" she asked Amanda.

She took a deep breath. "Lieutenant, I really think that I can still-"

"Amanda, I already know what you're going to say and the answer is 'no,'" Liv interrupted her firmly. "Desk duty isn't negotiable this time around."

Amanda visibly deflated. "But-"

Liv shook her head. "I know she's young - she only got her shield a couple months ago - but she's workable. Everybody has to start somewhere."

She wished she could stamp her feet in aggravation. She didn't want to sit on the sidelines - especially not now that there was somebody shiny and new to take her place.

Liv sighed, clearly noticing the disappointment and frustration on Amanda's face. "Slow down, Amanda. You aren't being replaced. We just aren't in the position right now to be down a detective and everybody else is wrapped up in other cases. It's not personal," she explained gently. "And as much as I admire your dedication to your work and your passion, I can't budge on this one. I'm sorry."

Amanda cast her gaze down to her feet. "Alright, alright," she eventually resigned, moving toward the door. "Understood."

"Rollins," Liv called to her before she could leave her office.

She turned and looked back at her lieutenant. "Yeah?"

Liv folded her hands together on her desk. "You and I both know how challenging it is to first get into this field as a woman. I'm expecting you to lead by example."

 _Don't give her a hard time_ was Liv's obvious underlying message. Amanda nodded obediently before heading out to the squad room.

* * *

"How far along are you?"

Amanda looked up from her phone just as Leah was taking a seat across from her at the break room table. She studied the younger woman through the sweep of her blonde bangs and remembered her first days in New York City after moving from Atlanta. She had been so desperate to let people know that she was good enough for SVU, so painfully eager to prove herself. If Cragen hadn't reined her in, taught her the value of restraint and thoughtfulness, God only knew what would have become of her. Amanda was grateful that he - and the others - had given her a chance, had stuck by her even while she struggled with her own demons. The shine was still bright on Leah's shield, but like Amanda, she deserved a shot, too.

"Almost fifteen weeks," Amanda answered.

"That's exciting. Is this your first?" Leah asked.

"No, I have a daughter. Just turned three a couple months ago."

"Aw. How sweet. You and your husband must have your hands full."

A small smirk pulled at Amanda's lips. "Something like that, yeah." She sat up a little straighter in her chair. "You have any kids?"

"Me? No," Leah laughed, shaking her head like the concept was ridiculous. "I don't even have a boyfriend."

"Married to the job?" Amanda guessed, an eyebrow raised knowingly.

Leah met the blonde detective's gaze, hazel eyes twinkling. "Something like that, yeah."

* * *

Lately, mood swings were getting the best of her. Amanda practically ripped the head off of a TARU technician when he was ten minutes late with the evidence he had promised her, started sobbing while reading Jesse a story about a sweet little mouse family, and now she was on top of Sonny like she'd explode if he didn't touch her. He had been minding his own business that night, sitting up in bed while he thumbed through a novel - until she was straddling him and kissing him with such enthusiasm that he had no choice but to put his book aside.

Amanda pulled off her shirt, just in her bra as she cast her top aside on the mattress. Her body may have been changing, but she was confident in the softness of her new curves - it was the latter half of pregnancy that left her feeling anything but sexy. As she kissed him, she felt Sonny's hands wandering against her bare skin, exploring. She loved the roughness of his palms, how he always managed to touch her like she was simultaneously exciting and familiar. She tugged at the gray henley he was wearing till it was over his head and off of him, the fabric only in her way.

"Can I ask you something?"

Truthfully, she was only sort of listening, but she was relatively certain Sonny had asked her a question. "Sure," she murmured against his mouth, fingertips drifting down the center of his chest.

"You really don't wanna get married?"

She froze. "What?" she asked breathlessly, pulling away to look Sonny in the eye.

"You really don't wanna get married," he repeated slowly, although this time it was more of a statement.

Amanda sat back on her haunches, brow furrowed. "Sonny, you're still thinking about that?"

He didn't reply, but the look on his face was enough of an answer.

"Is this a Catholic guilt thing? Because I can list about a hundred other sins you've committed before I got pregnant out of wedlock," Amanda continued sardonically.

"No, it's not that," Sonny told her firmly.

"Do you not want to have sex with me so you're bringing up this topic to distract me?" she asked, only half-joking.

" _Amanda._ "

"Okay, fine. What is it then?"

"I just think you're bein' a little jaded about marriage."

"I'm not jaded. I'm a realist."

He shook his head, looking a combination of amused and bewildered. "You're tellin' me that when you were a little girl, you never thought about gettin' married?"

She rolled her eyes. "'Course I did. But I had a narcissist drunk for a mother and a dad whose mood depended on whether or not he won at the track - until he left, of course - and that all kinda takes the fairytale out of it."

"Yeah, but-"

"I know your parents have been married for a hundred years but that's... not normal. You and your sisters... what y'all had as kids, with two parents who never fought, that's the exception, not the rule."

Sonny heaved a sigh and tilted his head back, eyes closed like she was exhausting him. She probably was.

"All I'm askin' is for you to try to think of it differently. Just try," he eventually said, looking at her again.

Her gaze flitted to the wall behind him, nose scrunched.

She felt him lean forward, his mouth placing kisses against her neck and beneath her ear, the stubble along his jaw scratching pleasantly against her skin. His hands slid up the tops of her thighs to make their way into the back pockets of her jeans, using them to pull her closer. "C'mon. For me?" he coaxed sweetly.

Amanda tilted her head to one side to allow him better access to her neck, eyes drifting shut as she enjoyed the sensation. A shiver ran down her spine at the feeling of his warm breath in her ear. "I'll try," she resigned, partly due to the way he was making her feel, but more so because deep down, she wanted to be different. Being the cynic could be terribly tiring - it was just that Amanda didn't know how to break the habit.

"That's my girl," he murmured approvingly.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN:** Buckle up, kids. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.

* * *

Sonny was moving though the squad room in a hurry that afternoon, a flurry of long limbs and papers.

"I gotta head down to Barba's office to meet Liv," he said to no one in particular as he put his suit jacket back on at his desk. "Leah, you wanna come?"

Amanda looked up from her keyboard, interest piqued. _Leah._ It had only been a few weeks and Sonny was already calling the new girl by her first name? Hadn't it taken him forever to call _her_ something other than Rollins? Amanda couldn't quite remember, but it annoyed her anyway.

* * *

A few days later, Amanda and Leah peered into the interrogation room through the glass. Sonny was almost nose-to-nose with a suspect, talking to him in the low, threatening way he saved for perps who didn't respond to yelling. Fin loomed, puffed up and serious. The man they were questioning was middle-aged and unassuming, the type of person who could easily go unnoticed on a busy New York street. He was an accountant and a little league coach - but the squad had reason to believe that he was a rapist, too.

"How do you ever trust a man, working here?" Leah asked her.

Amanda suppressed a smile, not because of the subject matter, but because of the memory it triggered. Years ago, she had asked Liv the very same thing. She could have given Leah a sarcastic or teasing response, but instead she shrugged. "It's hard," she admitted honestly.

Leah glanced over at her and nodded wordlessly.

She eyed the brunette detective's profile: she looked anxious, distracted. Leah had only been at SVU for a few weeks and Amanda wondered if their cases were renting too much space in her head; maybe they were creeping into her personal life. As someone who had a bad habit of getting far too invested in her work, Amanda empathized.

Amanda flipped the switch to turn the sound from the interrogation room off. She turned to Leah and offered, "you wanna take a walk? We can bring coffees back or something."

"Yeah, sure," Leah responded, looking relieved.

Amanda gave a little tilt of her head toward the squad room, indicating to Leah to follow her. Back at her desk, she began to put her coat on and stuck her sunglasses atop her head. Nobody would miss them if they disappeared for a few minutes, especially since they would return soon enough with provisions.

"I love your coat," Leah cooed in admiration, reaching out to touch the fabric of Amanda's olive green Burberry jacket.

"Thanks." _I won a bunch of money gambling and bought it while I was drunk_ , she could have added, but way too many people knew about her past already - she didn't need yet another coworker walking around with that kind of information.

Outside, they walked together down the busy Manhattan street. It was cold but the mid-morning sun was bright, the harsh light reflecting off of the lingering snow and ice from a storm two days ago.

"A lot of good men are out there, you know. You just gotta sift through all the pieces of crap," Amanda broke their comfortable silence, casting a glance over at Leah through the dark lenses of her sunglasses.

"I feel like I've been sifting for awhile. My friends... they don't have jobs like ours, they don't get it," Leah explained sheepishly.

"That's why everybody in NYPD is sleepin' with one another," Amanda quipped, eyebrows raised in her own private amusement.

She pulled open the heavy door to Starbucks so they could both hurry inside. The early morning rush was over now, so the shop was relatively quiet. Students with headphones and laptops took up most of the table space, but nobody was in line.

"Hey, Maggie," Amanda greeted the familiar face behind the counter. "Um... two venti Pikes, both black, a tall Earl Grey and whatever Detective Ricci over here wants," she ordered, then added as afterthought, "oh, and one of those little vanilla scones."

"Um, just a tall blonde roast, black. Please," Leah asked politely.

"You got it, Detectives," Maggie told Amanda with her usual chipper smile.

Amanda handed her credit card to Maggie before moving to the side to wait for their drinks. "We're probably going to Forlini's after court this afternoon," she said to Leah. "You should come."

"Yeah?" Leah said tentatively.

"Yeah. I promise Fin's less intimidating with a few drinks in him," Amanda assured her. "Get him talkin' about video games and he won't be so quiet - you'll probably never shut him up."

Leah visibly relaxed. "Really? He's sort of..."

"Yeah, I know." Amanda didn't need her to finish her thoughts, because she'd had them once, too, a long time ago. "He'll warm up to you."

"And Carisi is kind of..."

She looked at Leah expectantly, interested in her assessment.

"He's really nice, actually," Leah concluded. She seemed surprised.

Amanda suppressed a grin as she reached for the tray that held their coffees. "He is."

* * *

The squad hung around the crowded bar at Forlini's that evening, mingling with court officers and other familiar NYPD members who all were looking for the same kind of post-work reprieve. Amanda sipped soda water with lemon while the others drank, secretly jealous of their whiskey neats, chiantis and beers in frosted glasses.

Amanda had left Sonny sitting at the bar in favor of standing; she needed to stretch her legs. She lost track of time as she contentedly moved from conversation to conversation, and when she figured she should finally return to Sonny, Barba intercepted her.

"Rollins, you're glowing," Barba observed over the rim of his glass, his tone teasing. He had won their case and it showed.

She rolled her eyes, about to fire back with sarcasm, but then she remembered something. "Hey, I never thanked you."

He looked perplexed. "Thanked me? For what?"

"For what you did, a few weeks ago. You tipped the squad off to where I was. Without you, I'm not sure what would have happened," Amanda explained.

"Ah, that. Well, like I told Carisi: I found it strange how uncharacteristically forgiving you were being on the phone that day," Barba said with a little smirk. "I knew something had to be up."

"Yeah, well-"

Amanda paused mid-sentence, something over Barba's shoulder catching her eye: Sonny and Leah were sitting side-by-side at the bar, heads close together like they were discussing something private. Leah's hand was lingering on Sonny's forearm, skin on skin, sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up.

"Rollins?" Barba said, waving a hand in front of her face to get her attention.

"Sorry. I, uh, excuse me for a minute?" Amanda managed, not waiting for his permission before she began shouldering her way through the crowd toward the bar.

She stopped when she was in a place close enough to hear Sonny and Leah's conversation - but not directly in their line of sight.

"You went to Notre Dame High? I went to St. Peter's!" she heard Sonny exclaim.

"No way. We always had dances with you guys," Leah responded excitedly.

"I musta graduated way before you, though."

"C'mon, you're not that much older than me."

Sonny laughed into his beer bottle. "You flatter me."

"Well, in any case, you certainly don't look it," Leah assured him flirtatiously.

Amanda watched Leah bat her dark eyelashes as she nursed her wine. She waited to hear how Sonny replied, a twisted part of her wanting to catch him saying something compromising to confirm her warped trust issues, but then he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye.

"'Manda! There you are," Sonny called cheerfully, waving her over and displacing Leah's hand in the process.

Pulling in a deep breath, she steadied herself. If she caused a scene here, it would be in front of a lot of people she worked with - several of whom already knew about her occasional issues with impulsivity. Gripping her drink, Amanda moved toward the pair. Once she was close, Sonny's arm went around her, his hand resting on her back, just low enough to indicate that it was more than a friendly gesture. Amanda's blue eyes met Leah's hazel, her gaze narrow and icy.

"You wanna sit?" Sonny offered her.

"Nope," Amanda replied, taking a large sip of her soda water.

Leah was smiling at her, oblivious.

"Here, just take my seat for a minute. I'm gonna run to the bathroom anyway," Sonny insisted, ever the gentleman. He stood up straight to maneuver Amanda into his spot.

Before he walked away, Amanda rose up on her tip toes to catch him a kiss. It was a bit out of character for her given the environment, but she was being strategic. _Is that how women really think?_ Nick Amaro had asked her once when Amanda had encouraged him to manipulate Maria for information. _Not just women_ , she had asserted, but Amanda knew that being calculated was something she was particularly good at - although she wasn't necessarily sure that was something she should be proud of.

Sonny looked pleasantly surprised when she pulled back, giving her butt a playful swat before disappearing into the crowd. Amanda took his place on the barstool and set down her glass. She turned her body to get a better look at Leah.

"When I said there were a lotta good guys out there, I didn't mean that one," Amanda told her, her smile contradicting the chill in her voice.

She expected Leah to blush and frantically apologize for her misstep, but she didn't. Instead she met Amanda's gaze as she responded coolly, "I had no idea."

"Now you do," Amanda said sharply, the edge in her voice cutting through any attempt at civility.

When Sonny returned, he stood by Amanda, totally unaware of the interaction that had taken place in his absence - and Amanda planned to keep it that way.


	15. Chapter 15

"You did such a good job today, Jesse." Amanda looked down approvingly at her daughter, who clung to her fingers as they walked home from the yoga class they took together every weekend.

"I know," Jesse replied, swinging their entwined hands back and forth cheerfully.

"You're supposed to say 'thank you' when somebody says something nice about you," Amanda laughed.

"Thank you," she parroted before stopping in her tracks on the sidewalk and whining, "please carry me? I'm tired."

"One day you're gonna be too big for me to carry, you know," her mother told her as she picked the little girl up.

"Dad'll carry me."

Amanda sighed.

With Jesse on her hip, Amanda completed their journey back to the apartment. Once they were in their doorway, she set Jesse down again and took off her own coat, revealing the leggings and zip-up she had worn to class. She pulled Jesse's jacket off of her next, hanging it up beside hers on the rack before crouching back down to fuss with her daughter's outfit. When Amanda looked up from straightening Jesse's shirt and smoothing her unruly hair, she saw Sonny and Leah on the living room couch, paperwork spread out on the coffee table in front of them. Her eyes grew big with surprise.

"Hey, you two," Sonny greeted them, like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Uh, hi..." Amanda said slowly, looking between them suspiciously as she moved into the adjoining kitchen for a glass of water.

"We just had paperwork to finish from last night, but we're done now. Did you know Leah lives three blocks from us?" Sonny explained casually.

 _How wonderful,_ she thought bitterly. Before Amanda could respond, Jesse was in the middle of the living room, babbling.

"I did a good job today," Jesse announced.

"Yeah? How many downward facin' dogs did you do?" Sonny asked her.

"This many," Jesse replied, holding all ten fingers up.

" _Ten_? I bet that's even more than mom," he said with over-exaggerated disbelief and comically wide eyes.

" _Noooo,_ she did them _with_ me!" Jesse giggled.

"She's so cute," Leah simpered to Sonny, like Amanda wasn't the one who had actually given birth to her.

"What're you doing?" Jesse asked the two detectives curiously, wedging herself in between Sonny and the coffee table.

Sonny stopped her before her little hands disorganized the piles of paper, quickly lifting her up to balance her on his knee instead. "We're working." He motioned over to Leah. "This is Leah. C'mon, introduce yourself."

"Hi. I'm Jesse," Jesse said shyly.

"Hi, Jesse. Aren't you just the sweetest?" Grinning, Leah looked around, briefly catching Amanda's eye in the kitchen. "Well, I guess I should be going," the brunette concluded, standing up and gathering her half of the papers. She plucked her coat off of the back of one of the bar stools that lined the counter. "Thanks for finishing this stuff up with me, Sonny. I'll see you guys Monday."

Both Sonny and Jesse said their goodbyes, but Amanda only offered a small smile. Once the front door closed behind Leah, Amanda turned on her heel to glare at Sonny.

"You didn't tell me she was coming over," Amanda snapped, arms crossed over her chest.

"I didn't? I coulda sworn I told you yesterday," Sonny replied, setting Jesse on the couch before walking over to Amanda in the kitchen.

"Nope," she assured him curtly.

"Oh, well, I wanted to get that crap done because..." He leaned back against the counter and eyed Amanda, appearing thoughtful. "I think we should go out tonight."

"Out?" she repeated skeptically, like it was the most preposterous thing he had ever suggested. "I don't have a sitter for Jesse."

"I texted Audrey, she's around."

"You did?"

"Such a tone of surprise," Sonny remarked dryly. His long arms reached out and tugged at the pockets of her zip-up, which stuck out more than usual now, pulling her closer to him. "C'mon. It's Saturday. We'll go to dinner. We both gotta eat no matter what."

Her fingertips toyed tentatively with the strings of the heather gray pullover he was wearing. She quirked an eyebrow as she peered up at him. "You askin' me out on a date, Carisi?"

"That depends: does it still count as a date if we're at the point where I've accidentally used your toothbrush more than once...?"

"Sonny! That's totally disgusting!" Amanda exclaimed, her expression one of horror and amusement.

"So... is that a 'yes'?"

* * *

After dinner that night, they walked hand-in-hand down the street in SoHo. Their pace was slow, leisurely in comparison to the way they were often rushing around. It was cold, but wrapped up in her coat and hat, Amanda was content.

"MarieBelle is right around the corner. Let's get hot chocolate," Amanda suggested eagerly, like a little kid vying for a special treat.

"Is that the French place?" Sonny asked.

"Yeah. We can bring Jesse back a macaroon."

"C'mon, let's go."

Soon they sat across from one another at a tiny marble table. The cafe was warm and quiet, furnished with antiques and glittering crystal lights. A steaming cup of rich, cinnamon hot chocolate warmed Amanda's hands while Sonny stirred his own.

Amanda took the opportunity to study Sonny in the golden glow of the restaurant. He looked handsome, his cheeks pink from the cold, his hair perfectly disheveled, the top button of his chambray dress shirt undone. She smiled. "Thanks for dinner."

Setting down his spoon, he leaned in, forearms resting on the surface of the table. "You don't have to thank me for that."

"Okay, then..." She leaned in, too, releasing her cup and tangling her fingers with his. "Thanks for all the other stuff."

"What other stuff?"

"Y'know. The other stuff you do."

Sonny gave her the kind of knowing grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "You goin' soft on me, Rollins?"

"Maybe just a little."

He shook his head. "Nah, you've always been soft. It's just... hidden under a buncha stuff."

Amanda raised a playful eyebrow. "You callin' me fat?"

He chuckled quietly. "Not a chance."

Blue eyes drifted downward as she considered the way their fingers appeared entwined: her hands petite, pale, his strong and rough. Amanda wondered how others viewed them, if onlookers identified them as mismatched or just different enough to make sense. Lost in her head, she saw Leah: a younger, prettier and definitely less pregnant woman whose only demon was probably that she occasionally fell asleep without brushing her teeth. Amanda felt a twinge of envy, for a fleeting moment wishing she could rewind time and be a better, shinier version of herself.

"You know I love you, don't you?" She broke their comfortable silence.

"Of course I do. Why?" Sonny answered, sounding confused.

"I dunno. Sometimes I worry..." _That one day I'll be too much or not enough_ , she silently completed her sentence.

"What about?"

She shrugged as she met Sonny's gaze again, unsure of how to verbalize the sense of impending doom she always quietly carried around.

Lazily he pressed their palms together before kissing one set of her knuckles. With a little smirk, Sonny told her, "you're too pretty to be worryin'."

Amanda could have snapped at him for being patronizing or for brushing her off, but instead she was grateful that somehow, he always knew exactly what she needed to hear.


	16. Chapter 16

The rest of the squad gone for a morning court date, Amanda stayed behind at the precinct. She was typing up her latest interview notes and taking care of other previously forgotten paperwork, since that was pretty much all she could do now that she wasn't allowed in the field. Getting up from her chair, she drifted over to the fax machine, but paused when something on Sonny's desk caught her eye. There was a small, white bakery box tied with twine, a little card attached, sitting right on top of his keyboard. Amanda cast a furtive glance around the squad room: people were bustling around her without any particular interest in what she was doing. Against her better judgement, careful fingers poked open the card as inconspicuously as possible. A note was written in distinctively female handwriting: _Thanks for all your help, you're the best! -L_

"Detective Rollins, we need you to take a statement, if you have a minute?"

Amanda jumped, whirling around to face a uniformed officer and nervous-looking young girl. She nodded, her kindest smile pasted across her face. "Sure thing."

* * *

"He'll be here soon," Amanda assured the nurse in her doctor's office.

She sat on the edge of the exam table, phone in her hands, waiting. Technically, the appointment was scheduled for a half an hour ago, but Sonny was no where to be found.

"It's just, with our jobs, y'know? We're all over the place..." Amanda went on unnecessarily, feeling increasingly uneasy.

"The office closes at six thirty, so unless you want to reschedule, we should get the ultrasound done tonight..." the nurse explained gently, glancing at the clock.

"I know..." Amanda looked down at her phone again, her messages and calls to Sonny all unanswered. She had told him about this appointment three times and all three times he had assured her that he would be there. Of course she believed him - not only was he excited, he was also the most reliable person in her life - so it was concerning that he hadn't shown up or communicated with her.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about this. Why don't we just do it now?" Amanda sighed, uncomfortable but aware that the doctor's office wasn't going to stay open just to accommodate her.

She went through the motions of the ultrasound, attempting to keep her focus off of her rising worry. She watched the screen and listened to the robust heartbeat, relieved that all seemed to be going well.

"Do you want to know what it is?" the nurse asked her. "Or I can write it down for you and put it in a sealed envelope, so you guys can open it together?"

"Yeah, could you do that?" Amanda asked, grateful. Despite her annoyance, she would feel guilty if she found out the sex of the baby without Sonny there.

After the appointment, Amanda hurried down the sidewalk, bracing herself against the cold night air. About to get on the subway, she felt her phone ringing in her pocket: the caller ID read 'Carisi.'

"Where the hell are you? I called you at least five times!" Amanda answered, stopping in her tracks outside the station. Now that she knew he was alive, she was more agitated than concerned.

Sonny's reply was frantic, "oh my God, Amanda, I am so sorry. I totally lost track of time and my phone, I guess I had it on 'silent.' We got stuck out in Queens with this vic's family and then we had forty hours of audio to go through from-"

"'We'? Who is 'we'?" Amanda interrupted.

"Me and Leah. We've been workin' this case for the past two days, you know that."

"How cozy."

"Amanda-"

"Whatever. I'll see you later," she spat before she hung up.

Hot tears sprung to her eyes. Perhaps if she had been less tired, less hormonal, this disappointment wouldn't have seemed so monumental. Maybe if Sonny had been working with Fin instead of Leah, she wouldn't have felt so betrayed. She tried to talk herself down, to keep herself from indulging in all the potentially wildly inappropriate scenarios that could have taken place between Sonny and the new girl. Unsuccessful, she was seething all the way home.

Back at the apartment, Amanda was grateful that Audrey was gone and Jesse was downstairs at her friend Ella's house for the time being. She proceeded to slam things around in the kitchen, hoping that would make her feel better. It didn't. Eventually out of stuff to pretend to violently organize, she stood by the counter, staring blankly at the refrigerator, which was covered in Jesse's sloppy drawings and photographs Sonny had taken with his camera. She would have killed for a glass of something alcoholic. When she heard a key in the lock, her eyes darted to the front door.

"I know you're pissed at me and I deserve it," Sonny announced the moment he walked in.

Amanda crossed her arms over her chest, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

Moving toward her, he put both of his hands up, signaling defeat. "I fucked up."

"You are always on my ass about not letting SVU be a priority, but suddenly now it's yours? Is that how this is gonna go, Sonny?" she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

"I know, I know," he groaned, looking pained. "But what am I supposed to do, Amanda? We've got three cases goin' at once. You're out, Leah's still learning-"

"Stop calling her that!" she blurted angrily. Amanda was aware of her mounting irrationality, but couldn't seem to stop herself.

"That's her name..." Sonny reminded her carefully.

"Uh huh. And for the record, it's not like I'm out having a good time. I'm grounded because I'm pregnant. Remember that small detail?" she retorted. She could feel her face growing hot from her outrage. "And you two just _had_ to finish what you were doing _together_? For hours?"

"Yeah, we did," he replied defensively. "Fin and Liv were both gone, it was just me and her and she suggested it and-"

"Since when do you take suggestions from rookies? Or is it that you only take them from attractive women?"

"Wait a second," Sonny said, brows knitting together. "Which part are you yellin' about? Is this about me missin' the appointment or is this about you bein' jealous?"

That was the wrong thing to say: he wasn't allaying any of her fears, he was fueling them. She could hear the 'thud' of her heartbeat in her ears as she demanded shakily, "do I have something to be jealous of?"

"You are way outta line, Amanda," he warned. His eyes were no longer pleading with her, they were dark and admonishing.

"Leave me the hell alone," Amanda spat, not satisfied with his reply. She was blinking back tears but she didn't want him to see, so she stalked past him to shut herself in the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she closed her eyes. For the first time in awhile, Amanda was struck by the sudden and intense urge to gamble, driven by the desire to feel better right that very second. That's what gambling used to do for her: the thrill was intoxicating and immediate, better than any drink or drug. When she won, she was euphoric, untouchable, superior. She rarely reflected back on how crushing it felt to lose.

Amanda pulled her phone from her back pocket and practiced thumbs went to her old, familiar sports betting website. She scrolled through statistics quickly, eyes scanning the options, pulse pounding in anticipation. Her financial information was still saved; she used to be on there so often that she lost patience for having to type the numbers in repeatedly. Her paycheck was deposited into her bank account yesterday, so if she just took out a few hundred...

"Where's mama?"

Amanda heard Jesse's voice in the hallway. She paused, head bowed, tears dripping onto the screen of her phone. As quickly as she was about to reenter the world that had nearly killed her, she was outside of it again. She couldn't fall down this rabbit hole, not now - not ever. A hand rested on her stomach as she pulled in a few deep breaths, her heart rate gradually decreasing, her thinking becoming a little less cloudy. After a moment, Amanda wiped at her eyes and stood back up, pulling open the bathroom door to greet her daughter.

* * *

On Wednesday evening, Amanda followed Leah into the bunk room, shutting the heavy door quietly behind them both. Leah hovered at her locker for a moment, back turned until she sensed that somebody else was there with her.

"Have a minute?" Amanda asked her sweetly when their eyes met.

"Sure. What's up?" Leah agreed, turning back to continue rummaging through her purse.

Amanda walked over to the lockers. She leaned her shoulder against the cold metal, arms crossed, watching Leah's profile.

"Whatever you think you're doing with Carisi? Stop."

"Huh? Don't be ridiculous," Leah exclaimed with a laugh, glancing over at Amanda in astonishment.

"I'm not being ridiculous. I see you."

"Yeah, you are," Leah insisted, shutting her locker door and turning to look Amanda in the eye. Her expression was unflinching, even a little smug. "It's him you should be talking to. Maybe the two of you just aren't as close as you thought."

That stung. Amanda stepped closer to her, gaze fiery and determined. "Listen, Ricci: he isn't your partner and he definitely isn't your boyfriend, so back off, or else I _will_ make SVU hell for you. I can promise you that," she threatened tersely through gritted teeth. "You don't have any friends here."

"Are you threatening me?" Leah scoffed, outraged.

"Consider it a friendly reminder, just between us girls," Amanda replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. With a satisfied smirk, she left Leah alone.


	17. Chapter 17

"What the hell did you do?"

Amanda looked up from the magazine she was reading on the couch. "Hello to you, too," she mumbled to Sonny sarcastically. The two were barely on speaking terms since their argument a few days ago, which was profoundly uncomfortable both at home and at work. Everything unsaid hovered between them; it wasn't anger, more like a sad kind of tension. Amanda wanted to fix it, but she wasn't sure how. Part of her was embarrassed by her outburst, but another piece of her was still afraid that her suspicions were based in fact.

"Did you threaten Leah?" Sonny demanded loudly, standing in front of her.

"What are you talking about?" Her heart began to race, chest tight with dread.

"Don't bullshit me, Amanda."

"Keep your voice down, Sonny. Jesse's asleep," she urged him.

"What did you do?" he asked her again slowly, deliberately, his tone only a little quieter than before.

"I didn't do anything. We talked," she heard herself say, even though it wasn't necessarily the truth.

He tossed his coat aside onto the kitchen counter, eyes narrowing on her. Amanda wasn't sure if she had ever seen him so angry and it was making her nervous. Why was he so worked up about Leah? Had she been right about them all along?

Sonny explained sharply, "well, whatever _talk_ you had is about to get one of us transferred."

"What?" she exclaimed, brow furrowed in confusion.

"She went right to Liv and told her. Whatever you said to her freaked her out."

"Son of a bitch," she murmured under her breath. _What a whiner,_ she thought bitterly. A hand roughly raked through her hair as she stood up and demanded, "wait, wait a second, slow down. Who told you this?"

"I was just trapped in Liv's office with Dodds for an hour. You crossed a line this time, Amanda. Either I'm goin' back to Homicide or you're goin' to VICE - and let's be honest, it's probably gonna be me who goes since you're on restricted duty."

"I didn't-"

"Don't start with the excuses. Did you even give a single thought about how this could backfire? Or are you so damn selfish and paranoid that it never even occurred to you? Because of you, my job is on the line!"

Amanda could feel her mouth hanging open, so thunderstruck that she couldn't get herself to speak.

"You and I still workin' at SVU was a favor from Liv and you know it. She should have transferred one of us the second she found out we were together, but she didn't. You're so damn hard on her even though she's had your back this entire time," Sonny continued harshly, all of his accompanying hand gestures indicating that he was livid. "But now you've made her look like a jackass in front of Dodds and she's got no choice but to do something."

"I just thought..."

"What, Amanda? What did you think? You seriously believed I had something goin' with Leah? Do you know me at all? Do you _trust_ me at all?" he interrupted, bewildered.

"Of course I trust you," she said weakly, unconvincingly. Even she didn't believe what she was saying.

He snatched his jacket up again before glaring at her. "Clearly you don't. And you know what? I do love you, 'Manda. I really do. And I really coulda seen myself spendin' the rest of my life with you. Haven't I _always_ been there for you, even when nobody else was? Haven't you and me been through enough shit that you should know that we're in this together? And _this_ is what I get in return? You can't trust me - trust in what we have - after all this time? And while you're so damn determined to prove your warped theory, _you take my job out while you're at it?_ "

Amanda's gaze dropped to the floor; she was growing nauseous with shame. The silence that echoed between them was deafening, but she didn't know what to say. She never anticipated that asserting herself with Leah would end this way. Then again, she had acted on an irrational impulse without much consideration for anybody at all. Now her jealousy had cost Sonny his position at SVU, something Amanda never, ever would have wanted.

"Y'know what? Forget it. I shouldn't have even come back here," she heard Sonny say, then looked up to see him walking away.

"Where are you going?" Amanda asked anxiously, following him.

"I'm not stayin' here." He pulled open the front door.

"Are you serious?" she exclaimed, quickly trailing him into the hallway and carelessly leaving the door ajar. "Sonny, come on, wait!"

He disappeared, feet pounding down the stairwell like he couldn't get away from her fast enough.

* * *

"I figured you'd show up eventually."

Amanda stood outside of Liv's apartment that night, bundled up in her coat and hat, hands shoved in her pockets. Her nose and cheeks were red, both from the cold and crying.

"Can I come in?" Amanda asked meekly.

Liv wordlessly opened the door further to allow her inside. When they stood face-to-face in her living room, Liv crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

"Lieutenant, I know I messed up," Amanda began.

"You certainly did," Liv agreed dryly.

She swallowed hard. "It's not gonna happen again."

"You and Carisi both promised me you could keep your work and personal lives separate. He can, but you aren't holding up your end of the bargain."

"Liv-"

"If VICE had a desk for you, I'd send you in a heartbeat," Liv interrupted her sternly. "But they don't, so Carisi goes. That baby is your saving grace, so consider yourself lucky."

"I'm beggin' you, Liv. Don't do this," she croaked, not above desperate pleading if it made things right again.

"You did this, Amanda. Not me. Now that Dodds is involved, my hands are tied. You think I want Carisi back at Homicide? I don't want to lose him," Liv responded, her voice raised. Quieter but no less firm, she continued, "but I can't have one of my detectives _threatening_ a colleague over whatever is going on between you two at home. It's totally inappropriate. I'm not punishing Ricci by transferring her because of your mistake, but something has got to change."

"It will change!" Amanda assured her.

"It's too late for that." Liv shook her head before adding, "and Rollins, you're not to come in until Monday. That's an order. Understood?"


	18. Chapter 18

**AN:** The end of my week is crazy, which means I probably won't get the next chapter edited and posted till Saturday. Hang in there (and thank you, thank you, _thank you_ for reading)!

* * *

Saturday morning came but to Amanda, the passing of time was irrelevant. She was buried beneath her comforter, shades drawn and lights off, oblivious to whatever was happening outside of her apartment. She wasn't even sure what Jesse was doing - she had gotten her daughter breakfast, sat her in front of the television and proceeded to crawl right back into bed. As if she knew her owner was in need, Frannie stuck close to her side, her cold nose occasionally prodding at Amanda like she was making sure she was still alive.

"Amanda? Jesse, where's your mama?" Muffled by sheets and pillows, Amanda heard the distant sound of Kim in the living room.

"In bed," Jesse's little voice answered her aunt.

"Amanda? You in there?" The door creaked as Kim got closer. "Did you forget? You were supposed to meet me for breakfast."

"I forgot." Amanda hadn't really, she just couldn't bear the idea of pretending to be normal when she was certain she had never felt so miserable.

"Are you sick?"

She didn't reply and she heard Kim step further into her bedroom. She regretted giving her sister a key to her apartment.

"What's goin' on? You're freakin' me out." Kim paused, then asked, sounding confused, "hey, where's Sonny?"

Amanda kept her eyes screwed shut, comforter almost covering her from head to toe. "He's gone."

"What d'you mean, he's gone?"

Exasperated by her sister's persistence, Amanda struggled to sit up, disheveled and despondent beneath the tangle of sheets. "He left."

"What? Why?" Kim exclaimed.

Now she was crying again. "I really messed up, Kim," she admitted hopelessly, rubbing tears away from her sore eyes.

"What did you do?"

"I got him transferred. I didn't mean to, but I... I got kinda jealous of the new detective who was covering for me and I... confronted her..."

"Oh, no, Amanda..."

"She told my lieutenant. Ran right to her, and the chief. Technically we're aren't supposed to be working together anyway, but this just gave Liv an excuse to separate us. I don't think he's ever gonna forgive me for getting sent back to Homicide."

Kim sighed as she sat at the edge of the bed. "Things were goin' so good, 'Manda. Why d'you always do that, huh? Every time things get good, you gotta blow it all up."

Her tone was gentle, caring - and she was right. Under any other circumstance, Amanda would have bridled at her sister's assessment of her behavior patterns, but she didn't have the energy to dispute what she knew were facts. She couldn't believe that she was in a position where, of all people, notoriously crazy Kim was lecturing her.

"I know you think I never noticed this stuff, 'cause I was always on a run, but I did," Kim continued. "You did it with gamblin'. You'd be doin' so well for awhile, on the wagon, then you'd have to mess it all up and start bettin' again. At work you always wanna be the best, so you keep pushin' and pushin' stuff, until you go too far. Now you've done it with Sonny: you guys were doin' great. Got this new place, you're gonna have a baby - and the man's practically beggin' you to marry him. I mean, who saw that one comin'? But then you had to get all crazy. Why are you so scared of the good stuff, 'Manda?"

When Kim lied, she really lied - but when she was honest, she would dish out the most painful truths. Amanda looked up at her sister: Kim's gray eyes looked so sad, her brow creased with worry. She wasn't trying to be hard on Amanda, she was genuinely attempting to understand.

"I'm afraid it won't last." Amanda had never said those words out loud before; she had only quietly come to terms with them after years of self-inflicted chaos.

"So, what? You destroy it yourself first?" Kim shook her head. "You're the exact opposite of me. I'm always chasin' the good stuff, hopin' to make it last longer, hopin' it'll always be that way."

"Yeah, with drugs," Amanda mumbled unfairly.

Kim gave her a pointed, sideways glance. "Yeah, with drugs, and I know that wasn't the right way to go about it. But you and me had it rough for awhile, and I figured: I deserve to feel somethin' good. My point is, somewhere along the line, you stopped believin' you were worth the good."

She eyed her sister, awestruck despite her pain. "Where are you getting all this, Kim?"

"Therapy, meetings. And I watch a lotta Lifetime movies these days," Kim admitted with a grin.

Amanda gave the barest hint of laugh, gaze falling back down into her lap.

"Have you talked to him at all?"

"Once. He came to get some stuff, he's staying at his sister's. Needs space, I guess. Can't say I blame him. But..." She shook her head, dislodging more tears. "I think it's over, Kim."

"It can't be over, you guys are gonna have a baby," her sister asserted.

She met Kim's eyes. "You and I both know that doesn't mean much."

Kim grabbed at Amanda's knee, wanting her attention. "There you go again. We're not kids anymore, Amanda. Things can be different, if you _let them._ "

* * *

Kim Rollins knocked eagerly on Bella Carisi's apartment door.

After a moment, a woman with long, blonde hair appeared, holding a toddler on her hip and looking suspicious. "Can I help you?"

"Hi there. I'm looking for Sonny. Is he here?" Kim asked cheerfully, bouncing up on to her tiptoes to try to see over Bella's shoulder.

"Who are you?"

"Kim. Trust me, he'll know who I am."

Appearing skeptical, Bella looked back into the apartment and called, "Sonny, some girl is here for you..."

Sonny appeared behind his sister, looking confused. The moment Kim saw him, she boldly slipped her thin frame past Bella's to make her way inside.

"Kim? What are you doin' here?" Sonny asked. "How did you find me?"

"My sister told me," Kim admitted.

"Oh, here we go," Bella groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're fightin' your sister's battles now? I thought it was the other way around."

Before Kim could respond (and she _was_ going to respond), Sonny suddenly took her by the arm, pulled her aside and shut the both of them in Bella's room.

"She's charmin'," Kim remarked sarcastically with a little snort of laughter. "Your niece is real cute, though."

Sonny eyed her, hands on his hips. "Alright, what d'you want? I'm not helpin' you with your PO again, that was a one time deal. You miss another-"

"No, no. I don't need anything like that. I'm here because Amanda told me what happened."

He shifted in his spot, visibly uncomfortable. "Okay, well, that's between me and Amanda."

Kim set her purse down on the bed and undid the buttons on her coat. She began to wander around the room, fingers grazing surfaces curiously. "I know, but... my sister has always had my back. You probably know everything I did, how some really bad stuff happened to her because of me, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But no matter what, she's always stuck up for me, ever since we were kids. She shot somebody, risked her job for me. Her disgusting chief back in Atlanta took advantage of her, 'cause she was tryin' to save me. When I needed a lawyer, she drained her whole savings account to pay for it. She put money on my books in prison, she let me live with her and Jesse without askin' for a dime... so I kinda owe her."

She let silence fall between them as she carefully picked up a picture frame from the dresser, eyeing a photograph of a smiling Bella with two other women who had to be her sisters. "The good never lasted for us, growin' up. I know it's hard for you to imagine the stuff we saw, the stuff we had done to us, but Amanda always got it the worst - I'll spare you the details, 'cause they're hers to tell. But even after all my mama's crazy boyfriends, after everything the two of them did, still nothing coulda been worse for her than when daddy left. I think she thought she deserved it, like she wasn't enough to make him stay."

"'Manda and mama were like oil and water, so she really needed daddy in her corner. And he was, when he could be. Sometimes I think she's still waitin' for him to show up at her door with a handful of cash, callin' her 'Mandy,' all proud that his oldest is a New York City detective. That'll never happen, of course, but I know she thinks about it." Kim shook her head, smiling wistfully. She set the photograph she was admiring back down and looked over at Sonny.

"I'm not sayin' that's an excuse. It's not," Kim continued in earnest. "I'm just sayin', with everything she's been through, Amanda has always screwed good stuff up before the bottom can fall out from under her. She wants everybody to think she can handle anything on her own, but I know that really she has so much on her mind _all the time_ , 'cause she never talks to anybody. I dunno if she's afraid of the reaction, of people thinkin' she's weak or what, but... it all comes out this way, I guess. I know you guys have had fights before, but I've never seen her lookin' the way I did yesterday morning: she looks so sad. You and Jesse and now this baby, you're her whole world. Right now, she's heartbroken and really mad at herself. Amanda has done some stupid stuff in the past but I _know_ that she'd never, ever purposefully hurt somebody she loves. She's really sorry, Sonny."

After a beat of silence, Sonny admitted quietly, "she never tells me any of this stuff."

"Give her another chance to. I think this time... she gets it. For once I wanna be right about something - I told her things could be different," Kim pleaded eagerly.

Sonny didn't say anything, just rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, eyes on something behind Kim.

Kim took a step closer to him, smiling. She tilted her head until Sonny met her gaze, her gray eyes shining. "'Forgive as the Lord forgave you,' remember?"


	19. Chapter 19

**AN:** Surprise! Managed to get this edited for y'all sooner than I thought!

* * *

On Monday, Amanda called out sick.

She hadn't even had the guts to get in touch with Liv directly - she texted Fin instead, who didn't challenge her or attempt to convince her otherwise, just promised her that he would pass the message along. The truth was, Amanda couldn't imagine concentrating on other peoples' tragedies while she was trying to figure out how to manage her own. Before she could do anything at all, she had to talk to Sonny.

That morning, she left Audrey and Jesse with a couple of missions in mind. First, Amanda walked into the 18th precinct, located in Midtown North. Her eyes scanned the bustling squad room; they were located in one of the busiest sections of city. A familiar face intercepted her as she hovered on the outskirts of the office, unsure of where to go.

"Detective Rollins," Detective Marcus Perry greeted her with a big, friendly grin before adding with a raised eyebrow, "somebody call Special Victims?"

She shook her head; clearly he wasn't aware of all that had taken place over the past few days, but she was sort of thankful for that. "Hey. No, I'm looking for Carisi. Is he around?"

"You're not taking him back already, are you? He just got here."

"Nah."

Perry explained, "he's been here since four this morning, we had a messy burglary-homicide in the Diamond District. He went on break, I think he said he'd be at For Five... coffee shop on West 46th, right around the corner."

"Thanks, Perry," Amanda said gratefully before turning to leave.

"Hey, congratulations, by the way," Perry called after her.

She offered him a small smile over her shoulder before heading back outside into the cold. She sunk deeper into the big collar of her favorite winter coat, which still _just about_ fit her even at four months pregnant. Fast feet carried her to the modern midtown coffee shop, which was relatively empty given the awkward time of morning. Amanda easily spotted Sonny at a small corner table in the back, leaned over what she presumed to be the New York Ledger. She walked over to him cautiously.

"Hi."

Sonny looked up, expression surprised.

"Can I sit?"

"Yeah, sure." He folded his newspaper in half and sat back in his chair.

She pulled off her hat and gloves, setting them on the table in front of her.

"What are you doin' here? Everything okay?" he asked.

Despite her nerves, Amanda softened at his question. He was pissed at her - rightfully so - but even still, he worried. She fiddled with her gloves, somber again, because everything was not okay. "I'm fine."

"I was gonna call you today," Sonny told her quietly.

She nodded. She believed him, because he wasn't the type to disappear, but she was the one who needed to make an effort this time. Their blue eyes met. "I am so sorry, Sonny. I don't blame you if you don't forgive me, but please believe me: if I known this would be the fallout, I'd never, ever put your job at risk."

Expression stoic, he shook his head. "I'm pissed to be back at Homicide but, that's not what's keepin' me up at night." He leaned forward over the table slightly, hands clasped loosely. Lowering his voice, he continued, "I just don't get how we got here. How after all this time, you're still so convinced that you aren't enough for me. That bothers me more than anything."

Amanda bowed her head and pulled in a deep breath. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," she responded slowly. "Y'know, growing up, I was always a good girl. Nobody ever expected trouble from me, nobody expected anything from me. I was trying so hard to get anybody to pay attention, but it was always my mama and Kim bein' crazy, my dad in and out until he couldn't take it anymore. When I started gambling, it just filled that void. When I won, I felt special and powerful and important. Which is pathetic, I know, but it's the truth. When I stopped, I used to miss what it did for me."

"I say 'used to' because when I met you, you made me feel all that stuff. You're the first person I have ever had in my life who has made me feel like I'm special. I didn't even think it was possible for one person to make another person feel that good. I'd never seen it play out in real life, only in movies and all those crappy television shows I like. So with you, sometimes I think, what if this is all gonna end? Should I mess it all up first so I don't get blindsided?"

This was hard. She looked up to the ceiling in an effort to keep herself from crying, blinking a few times to prevent the tears from falling. With an exhale, she continued, "I spend so much time anticipating catastrophe that I miss what's right in front of me. I was jealous of Leah because I thought she would be somebody you wanted, when all the while you've spent years tryin' to show me that you want me."

Amanda reached across the table, curling her fingers around his own, looking at Sonny in earnest.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Dominick Carisi. You're the kindest, most generous person I have ever met. You're smart and funny and loyal... you're so steadfast in your beliefs; I wish I had the faith that you do. Sometimes I look at you and think you can't be real, somebody this good can't exist. And I don't care that you spend more time doin' your hair than I do, or that you mix up our toothbrushes, or that you think pasta is its own food group." She offered him a weak, pleading smile. "The idea of spending my life with you... I don't know if I'm deserving, but it'd be an honor. You're the better half of me, the half I'm trying really hard to learn from."

She felt his fingers respond to hers, his grasp tightening slightly.

"I didn't come here to beg you to come home, but I hope that you'll do that when you're ready. I came here because I needed you to know how sorry I am. I promise you I'm gonna make this right." Determination had replaced the sadness in Amanda's eyes and more than anything, she hoped that he noticed.

* * *

Amanda took the elevator up to the forth floor of 26 West 82nd Street. When she arrived, she encountered a quiet, empty waiting room. The door was closed, so she knocked on it.

"Hi. Can I help you?" Dr. Peter Lindstrom appeared in the threshold of his office.

That was a loaded question. "Hi, I... you probably don't know me..."

"You look familiar." Dr. Lindstrom's brow furrowed in thought. "You're NYPD, aren't you?"

She nodded. "My name's Amanda Rollins. I was referred to you once, by Lieutenant Benson years ago but I..."

"You never showed up," he finished her sentence, his tone surprisingly kind and non-judgmental.

"Yeah, sorry about that," she mumbled, embarrassed.

"That's okay." He opened his door wider, motioning for her to come inside. "Why don't you have a seat?"

Amanda hesitated for a moment, nervous, but eventually followed him. She perched herself on the edge of the nearest chair, hands still hidden in the pockets of her jacket.

"What can I do for you now?" Dr. Lindstrom asked her curiously, sitting across from her.

"Are you taking new patients, by any chance?"

"Technically, no..."

Amanda frowned, disheartened.

"But, Olivia has told me about the sort of work you all do, so I think I could make an exception."

"Well, it's not so much about work. It's about... all the other parts of my life," she admitted sheepishly.

He nodded, his facial expression encouraging her to elaborate.

"I have a lot of... stuff."

Dr. Lindstrom smiled knowingly at her. "We all do, Amanda."

* * *

That night Amanda fell asleep on the couch watching a marathon of Million Dollar Listing; she had felt her eyes growing heavier and heavier after the forth extravagant beachfront property. She fought it in hopes of Sonny appearing, but eventually she gave in, laying down on the cushions, an old throw blanket covering her haphazardly. She hadn't slept in days and it had finally caught up with her, even despite her seemingly endless racing thoughts. Once she was curled up and comfortable, moving to her bed seemed impossible, so she didn't. Tomorrow she would have to show her face at SVU, so she'd take her rest where she could get it.

Somewhere in between asleep and awake, she sensed the television was turned off. She enjoyed the warm cocoon she had created for herself for a few more moments before she blinked her tired eyes open to see Sonny sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Surprised, Amanda struggled to quickly sit up, hair a mess, the throw blanket now wrapped sloppily around her shoulders. "You're back."

"Yeah," Sonny said steadily. "I am."

She leaned her body into his, arms tightening around him in a sideways hug, legs bent across his lap. Her head bowed against his shoulder, she closed her eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, his soap. When she felt his arm snake around her back and his other hand rest on her knee, she was flooded with relief.

"I missed you," she heard him say quietly. "I realized there are worst things than bein' transferred. Like not bein' here." After a beat of thoughtful silence, he added, "I'm sorry I left. I shouldn't have, it never solves anything."

Amanda lifted her head to shake it. "Don't apologize. I don't blame you for that."

"Promise me something?"

"Anything." She meant it, too.

"From now on, you'll start talkin' to me."

She sat up a little straighter in order to look at him. He appeared serious, intense - not angry. "I will," she whispered sincerely. Hand pressed against his chest, she tilted her chin up to kiss him softly. "I promise."

Sonny met her eyes when she pulled away, giving her a nod of understanding, and Amanda knew he believed her.

Remembering something, she reached for her purse, which she had thrown carelessly on the coffee table when she returned home that evening. She dug around until she pulled out a sealed white envelope. Settling back into the crook of Sonny's arm, she handed it over to him.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It's from the doctor's office. Open it up."

"It's not a bill, is it?"

"No," she chuckled quietly. "Just open it."

Amanda watched his thumb slide slowly through the seal of the envelope, opening it in one fluid motion. He took the slip of paper out, giving Amanda a suspicious sideways glance. She poked at his ribs, coaxing him to continue. Blue eyes on his fingers, Sonny unfolded the little note to reveal a single word, written in bold, blue marker and underlined with certainty: _boy._

Completely surprised, she felt herself grinning as she looked up at Sonny to see his reaction. She watched his face go from confusion to joy, a wide, adoring smile lighting up all of his features. Amanda wished she could have photographed it; it was the very best thing she had ever seen.

"It's a boy?" he asked, dumb-founded.

Amanda gave a little shrug, eyebrows raised playfully. "I guess so, I'm just as surprised as you are. I didn't want to find out until we were together."

His expression melted into one of gratitude before he gave her several energetic kisses. The hand that had been on her knee came to rest on her stomach, palm moving back and forth as he asked excitedly, "what's goin' on in there, pal?"

"Here..." Smiling, she lifted the hem of her shirt and maneuvered his hand to a spot beneath the curve of her abdomen, right above the dip of one of her hipbones. "Lately he always wiggles around in there whenever I've been laying down for awhile. Just wait a minute." She pressed her hand atop of Sonny's, keeping it where she knew the baby's feet to be. She held Sonny's gaze while they waited in anticipatory silence. It was strange and wonderful to be able to give their child more of an identity, to watch him connect further to the little person she was carrying right under her heart. If she had any tears left, she would have started to cry.

After a few minutes of sitting quietly, Amanda felt a familiar fluttering sensation, like a little bird was trapped inside of her stomach, flapping its wings. "Feel that?" she asked Sonny eagerly, pressing against his hand more firmly.

"Wow. There's really somebody in there," Sonny breathed, eyes wide and shining in awe, as if he hadn't believed it till just then.

She nodded. "You have to start talking to him, so he learns your voice. Not that that will be an issue for you."

Sonny gave her a pointed look, clearly trying to suppress a smile - but failing. The fingers against her skin tickled her suddenly, his opposite hand doing the same on her other side, inciting a yelp of laughter from Amanda while she tried to wriggle away from him. The harder she fought, the more aggressive the tickling became, his larger frame easily overpowering her. Soon Amanda was taking gulps of air between childish, shameless giggles, limbs flailing, and the last of any lingering darkness faded away.

* * *

 **Oops, another AN: There is another chapter of this that will be posted ASAP, but I'm starting to think of where to go after that. Let me know if you want me to continue this story (baby? are they gonna get married? etc?) and what you'd like to see. :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**AN:** Some fluff ahead, friends! You'll see I divided it up into "part two," just to fast forward a teeny bit (okay, and because I'm too lazy to create a whole other story).

* * *

"Thanks for meeting me. I know it's early."

Leah delicately sat in the seat across from Amanda at Starbucks on Tuesday morning. She crossed her arms over her chest, coat still on, clearly not planning to make herself too comfortable. "It's fine. I was up to go to the gym anyway."

"So... how are you?" Amanda asked her, making a lame attempt at normalcy.

Leah stared at her. "Why do you want to talk to me? Haven't you done enough talking already?"

Amanda cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Yeah... about that. I wanted to apologize."

The brunette blinked at her, stone-faced.

"That was a mistake. I was out of line, I was jealous and... I'm sorry." God, that was hard to say.

Leah leaned back in her seat, appearing skeptical. "If you think apologizing is going to get me to take back what I said to Benson, then you're wrong."

Amanda shook her head. "No, I don't want that. I'm genuinely sorry. And I'm going to talk to Liv, to make sure you can stay at SVU as long as you want. Even when I'm back, if you're interested."

"Why would you do that?"

She fiddled with her cup, rolling it slowly between her palms as she responded sheepishly, "I'm making amends, tryin' to restore what I've damaged."

"Step nine," Leah murmured.

Amanda quirked a curious eyebrow.

"In the Big Book, AA. My dad's an alcoholic," Leah offered as an explanation.

That surprised Amanda; she had assumed that Leah's upbringing had been pristine, but maybe they had more in common than she originally thought. She met the brunette detective's gaze. "Then you know it's not just about apologizing, it's about righting the wrong."

"Are you...?"

"Kinda. Different vice."

Leah nodded but didn't ask anymore questions.

"I should apologize to you, too," Leah eventually said, voice quiet. "I, uh, wasn't exactly respectful of your relationship. But just so you know, all Carisi ever talked about is you. It was always 'Amanda this' and 'Amanda that.' And you'd never know Jesse wasn't his, by the way. He's proud of her, like she's his own kid."

"He's good to her," she murmured, warming from the inside out at Leah's words.

"He's good to you, too, it seems like. And I guess I've worked with so many arrogant pricks that it was refreshing to work with somebody who... wasn't one. So I was jealous."

Amanda scrunched up her nose in thought, then looked at Leah with wide, hopeful eyes. "Y'think maybe we can start over?"

Leah gave her a mischievous smile. "That all depends... think I can borrow that green coat of yours sometime?"

* * *

Fin met Amanda in the break room.

"I'm glad you're back. You know I don't have it in me to be in charge."

Amused, Amanda raised an eyebrow. "You're a sergeant, Fin. You outrank me."

"Yeah, but, it's a lot of work without my partner."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Not like I can do much anymore."

"You talk to Liv since...?"

Amanda shook her head. "No. I'm going to now, though."

"You cool with Leah bein' here?"

"I'm gettin' over it."

"How's Carisi?"

"He's managing over at Homicide," she sighed, then added teasingly, "what's with the third degree? You worried about me?"

"Nah. You always handle your business."

She smiled at him appreciatively as she headed back toward the squad room. "I'm trying to."

Amanda walked to Liv's office, where she found the door cracked. Cautiously poking her head in, she asked, "Lieutenant, can we talk?"

Liv was sitting at her desk, glasses on, reading something. She looked up at the sound of Amanda's voice. "Sure."

Amanda stepped inside and carefully shut the door behind her. She wrung her hands together nervously. "I wanted to apologize again, for what I did. And uh... I wanted to let you know that Leah and I talked this morning. I apologized to her and I really do think she could do well here, if she wants to stay."

"Oh?" Liv sounded surprised.

"Also, I am gonna start seeing Dr. Lindstrom every week. It's been a long time coming."

Liv set down her paperwork and raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't need to pay people to listen to your problems?" she asked, an edge of sarcasm in her tone.

She felt her cheeks heating slightly as she admitted, "apparently I do."

"I have to say, I'm impressed, Rollins. Shocked, but impressed."

"And..." Amanda went on. "I talked to Midtown North's C.O. If you sent me to Homicide, they'd take me. So maybe, if I do that, Carisi can come back to SVU?"

Liv's brow furrowed in confusion. She leaned back in her chair, eyeing Amanda. "Let me get this straight: you wanna give up _your_ spot here to work a desk at Homicide so Carisi can come back?"

"It's only right. Carisi deserves to be here. He shouldn't be punished."

"You both deserve to be here. You're both good police," Liv sighed. "I'll see if I can get him back for next week."

Relieved, Amanda assured her lieutenant, "I'll go to Homicide as soon as they'll have me."

She shook her head. "You'll stay."

"What?"

"I'll work it out with Dodds to keep you both here."

Confused but in the very best way possible, Amanda asked, "but... why?"

Liv stood up from her desk and walked over to stand in front of her. "Like Cragen always said, 'nothing changes except what has to.' You figured out what had to and you're making it happen."

She could feel her throat tightening with emotion; all she could do was nod, because she was afraid if she opened her mouth, she would start to cry.

Most likely noticing Amanda's obvious relief and gratitude, Liv smiled. "When you do the right thing, I'm always going to have your back, Amanda."

"Thanks," Amanda managed.

Before she knew what was happening, Liv was pulling her into a hug. Amanda didn't tense or step back, she just appreciated it.

* * *

 **PART II:**

 _for all the things my hands have held / the best by far is you_

* * *

It was the sticky month of August in New York City and Amanda was eight months pregnant. Throughout the spring and summer, she had been working at her desk at SVU, trying to keep up with Jesse and faithfully attending therapy just like she had promised Liv. Things felt better; the storms inside her head were still present, but they were quieter, less catastrophic. She didn't talk to anybody about what she discussed with Dr. Lindstrom, hoping that keeping it all contained in his office would someday mean it wouldn't follow her home anymore.

A month away from giving birth, she would be put on bed rest until she delivered, per the very stern orders of her physician. True to form, Amanda had put up a little fight, trying to sweetly negotiate dates with the doctor. Unsurprisingly, he was unrelenting: given the seriousness of her complications with Jesse, she was to remain as inactive as possible for the remainder of her pregnancy.

Her last day of freedom, despite her passionate protesting, Kim threw Amanda a baby shower. It was surprisingly well-organized at a quaint pastry cafe in Long Island City: she had decorated the space in a blue color scheme, invited all of Amanda's female friends and co-workers - and most importantly, not once did Kim do anything inappropriate. Beth Anne Rollins remained in Atlanta - she would fly up to New York closer to Amanda's due date - but so many others dropped by to offer their congratulations that Amanda felt overwhelmed with gratitude. She didn't need a lot - Jesse hadn't been a baby that long ago - but presents were stacked high atop a corner table by the time the gathering was over.

Back at home that Sunday evening, Amanda sat cross-legged on the bed among piles of baby clothes and accessories. She took each item and folded it carefully, smiling at the whimsical prints and patterns on the soft material. Some of Jesse's old things were unisex, but she had to admit that it was sweet to see little onesies and t-shirts meant just for boys. She had never imagined that she would have one child, let alone two, and now she was lovingly running her fingers across tiny blue hats and socks, anxious to meet the baby who would soon wear them. Somehow Kim had known before Amanda herself that this shower and what it symbolized would mean a lot to her.

"Looks like you made out pretty good."

Amanda looked up to see Sonny walking into the bedroom. He had spent the afternoon with his father while his mother attended the shower, then drove them back to Staten Island. He leaned down to kiss her before sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.

"There's even more in that bag over there," Amanda said with a little nod of her head.

"Where are we gonna put all this- aw. These are so cute," Sonny said, picking up a little t-shirt with a grin, no longer concerned with storage.

"Look, Liv got him all these tiny ties," she told him with a laugh, pointing to a row of them laying in front of her.

"He's gonna be lookin' sharp." Sonny moved to lean back against the headboard, shoes kicked off and long legs stretched out along the free space in front of him. "Seems like my mom had a good time today."

Back to him, she resumed her folding. "I'm glad. She's certainly not shy."

"You know that's not a family trait," he remarked. "But, uh, she was naggin' me the whole ride home."

"That's kind of her thing," Amanda reminded him, palms smoothing over a fuzzy blue blanket.

"She really wants the baby to be baptized at St. Clare's."

She cast a pointed look over her shoulder at Sonny. "We talked about this."

"I know, but she's very attached to the idea..."

"She is, or you are?"

He didn't respond, and with a sigh, Amanda turned all the way around to look at him. "I'm not Catholic and we're not married. What's she gonna do, bribe a priest to do it anyway?" She added quickly, "and if you think I'm getting married looking like this, you have another thing coming."

Sonny rolled his eyes. "We've been goin' there forever. I doubt it'll be an issue."

She raised an amused eyebrow. "You're telling me that they are gonna break canon law for the Carisi family?"

"I'm sayin' that they're more understandin' than you give them credit for."

"Yeah, unless you're gay, or divorced, or on birth control, or-"

" _Okay,_ Amanda. For the sake of your blood pressure: point taken."

She exhaled audibly, both hands resting on her stomach as she looked at a disgruntled Sonny. The two of them could usually have civil disagreements - it was how their relationship began, after all - but now this was about more than just opinions, it was about their child's future. Amanda's beliefs - or lack thereof - were valid, but so were his, and it was understandable that he would want to impart them on his son. His unwavering commitment to his faith and his family never failed to tug at her heartstrings.

"We can talk about it again when he's born. Okay?" she promised him. "But for the rest of the month, I would prefer to continue to live in sin."

A smirk tugged at the corners of Sonny's mouth. "Deal."

* * *

It was her version of torture.

For the past two weeks, Amanda spent her days moving back and forth from the bed to the couch, watching Audrey and Jesse come in and out all day - both of whom were having much more fun than she was. Everyone at SVU texted and called her, and Fin dropped by on his breaks every now and then to make sure Amanda wasn't going completely crazy. Even Leah checked in on occasion, which meant a lot to her given the rocky start of their relationship. Of course, Frannie stuck close to Amanda's side, seeming extra protective over her pregnant owner. So even if she was bored out of her mind, Amanda was certain she had never felt so loved.

Sonny was working almost constantly now. That night, he didn't walk through the door until after nine o'clock - and he was barely home for two minutes before he was rooting through the liquor cabinet.

"Hey, did you know that Kim and Kanye paid some woman forty-five thousand dollars to be their surrogate?" Amanda called to Sonny in the kitchen from her position on the couch, eyes flickering between him and the television. Besides Audrey, he was the first adult she had spoken to all day. "Maybe I should have billed you for my services."

She heard ice clinking against glass as Sonny remarked sarcastically, "wow, I can actually _see_ the brain cells leavin' your skull, 'Manda."

"Do you realize how boring it is to be me right now? All I have is television," she lamented theatrically.

"You could read a book."

"Ugh." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand, like that was a ridiculous suggestion. Truthfully, at this point she felt so tired and foggy all of the time that concentrating on anything at all felt impossible.

Suit jacket and tie off, Sonny sunk down next to her on the couch.

"Don't drink that in front of me," Amanda whined, her head lolling back dramatically.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Trust me, nobody wants you to start drinkin' again more than I do."

She lifted her head again to glare at Sonny, lower lip puffed out in a childish pout. When he wriggled his eyebrows and gave her his most obnoxiously charming smile, however, she shifted so she was close to his side. Legs bent up as far as they could go given her stomach, she rested her elbow against the back of the couch and her head in that hand. Studying his profile, she frowned. "You look tired."

He angled his body toward hers. "Because I am."

Amanda's brow creased. She reached a free hand to graze fingers against the familiar gray at his temples. "You're working too much. You've probably racked up the most OT in the city this summer."

"Liv knows I want it. It's not like anybody else is after it: Fin doesn't take the hours and Leah's like, one more pedophile away from a total break down." Sonny took a sip of his drink before setting it down on the coffee table and sitting back. "You're gonna run out of paid vacation days soon."

She felt a pang of guilt.

Reading her expression, Sonny assured her, "hey, it's not forever. Just for now. Let me worry about that."

Amanda leaned in and kissed him, murmuring against his lips, "thanks."

"For what?" he asked her, expression confused when he pulled away slightly.

"For taking care of me. And Jesse."

"Don't thank me for that. That's just somethin' you're supposed to do."

"Not everybody does it, though."

Sonny took her chin between her fingers so he could look her in the eye. "You forget? I'm not 'everybody.'"


	21. Chapter 21

Jesse had become accustomed to resting her head on her mother's stomach whenever they sat together. That afternoon they were stretched out on the bed, watching Moana for what had to be the tenth time. Amanda was scrolling through what was now three weeks of work e-mails, living vicariously through her colleagues, while Jesse wriggled around, poking and prodding at her belly.

"What's he doing in there?" she asked her daughter distractedly.

Jesse pressed her cheek against Amanda's abdomen. "Nothing."

"He must be resting."

"Why?"

"Because he's tired."

"Why?"

Smiling, Amanda sighed. "Growing is a lot of work."

"Was I in there?"

"You were, but now you're a big girl."

Jesse lifted her head and sat up. She pouted, lower lip quivering. "I don't wanna be a big girl."

"What? Of course you do," Amanda exclaimed, setting her phone down.

"I wanna be the baby!" Jesse wailed, her little face scrunched with emotion, eyes welling up.

Sensing an impending tantrum, Amanda frowned. She had anticipated some jealousy, but not so soon.

"None of that," she told her daughter gently. "Everybody's gotta grow up. Mama did, too. Even Frannie was a baby once, and now she's not."

Jesse sniffled, tears clinging to her dark eyelashes. "No," she responded defiantly.

She maneuvered her daughter's small body to tuck her close into her side. "You'll always be my baby," she assured Jesse. "Who loves you best?"

"You," Jesse mumbled the answer to the question Amanda asked her every day.

"For how long?"

"Forever and ever."

"That's right." She squeezed her daughter closer. "And don't you forget it."

* * *

The sound of Amanda's phone ringing jolted her awake. Groaning, she had only just fallen asleep after tossing, turning and readjusting endlessly. Her back was abnormally sore and no position felt comfortable for very long.

Keeping her cheek on the pillow and her body under blankets, she reached for her phone and put it on speaker before setting it on the mattress.

"Hi," she said sleepily.

"Hey. Did I wake you up?" replied Sonny's familiar voice.

"Kinda. I can't get comfortable. What's up?"

"Liv and I are still in Poughkeepsie, their CSU moves like molasses here."

"Okay," Amanda yawned, eyes fluttering closed.

"It's a mess, definitely our guy. We'll start drivin' back after we're finished lookin' at this evidence and talkin' to a couple more witnesses."

"Mhm."

"The trip back will probably take us two hours."

"It'd only be an hour and a half, if I was driving."

"Because you've got a lead foot. But hey, I gotta go, okay? I'll text ya later."

"Mm."

"Get some sleep."

"Stop talking. Love you."

"Love ya."

* * *

When she woke up suddenly feeling like her entire abdomen was in a vice, she tried to ignore it. No longer able to sleep, Amanda wandered around the apartment for hours, moving from bed to couch to chair in an attempt to stave off the increasingly intense cramping. It was when her water broke onto the kitchen floor at one in the morning, however, that she finally accepted the fact that she was in labor.

Her first few calls were to Sonny, but he didn't answer. Then she texted Audrey, who thankfully responded right away. Amanda's next dial was to somebody who had always been there when she needed him most, even at the most inopportune times.

"Fin?"

"This better be good, Rollins. I'm not on duty tonight." Her partner's gruff voice came over the speaker.

"I need you to drive me to Bellevue."

"Huh?"

"The hospital. I need you to take me," she clarified as she began to dispatch more text messages.

"What? Alright, I'm comin'. Where's Carisi?"

"In Poughkeepsie with Liv, on that serial push-in rapist case. I called him four times, but he probably has his phone on silent. I texted Liv, too, but I don't think I can wait."

"Doesn't his watch get phone calls?"

"Fin, I really don't feel like discussing the details of Carisi's technology right now." She winced in pain, bracing herself against the kitchen counter.

"What are you gonna do with little J?"

"Audrey will be here soon."

"Copy that. I'm on my way."

* * *

"Looks like it hurts," Fin observed casually from his seat by Amanda's hospital bed.

They had been together for two hours, and as much as Amanda loved her partner, he wasn't exactly the most reassuring in this situation. Even so, he did finally get in touch with Sonny and contacted her mother and Kim. She would be appreciative of all of his efforts afterward, when she wasn't writhing in pain.

"It does, Fin, thank you so much for pointin' that out," she responded bitterly through gritted teeth.

Knowing it could take awhile, Amanda had requested an epidural immediately upon her arrival - she didn't see the appeal of doing things naturally - and it served as the light at the end of her tunnel. Giving birth to Jesse had been such a blur; having an emergency c-section meant she hadn't had to experience labor in its entirety. When the doctor reappeared, she had never been so excited to see a needle - except that he didn't appear to be carrying one.

"You had a placental abruption with your first child, so we really shouldn't give you an epidural," the physician explained. "It's one of the big risk factors with spinal anesthesia."

Amanda looked as if somebody had just run over her dog, blue eyes wide with devastation and disappointment. "You can't be serious..."

"You're progressing pretty quickly; your contractions are almost four minutes apart. It'll be over before you know it," the doctor told her gently. "I'll be back to check in on you shortly."

"You don't need that stuff anyway," Fin assured her when they were alone again.

"Easy for you to say!" she yelped weakly.

She was hot and she was cold; she could feel her bangs plastered to her sweaty forehead as her hand gripped the railing of her bed with each wave of searing pressure. As the intensity grew over time, Amanda became more and more anxious about Sonny making it before the baby was born - and worried about how badly the actual act of giving birth was going to hurt. She had tried her best to remain as stoic as possible through out the beginning stages of labor - for both her pride and Fin's sake - but her facade was rapidly deteriorating.

The door suddenly burst open, Sonny and Liv making their hurried entrance into the hospital room.

"What took you guys so long?" Fin asked, standing up.

Sonny immediately rushed to Amanda's side, explaining, "there was an accident, a tractor trailer flipped over and there was all this traffic-"

"Didn't you put the lights on? What good is being a cop if y'all can't get through traffic!" Amanda shrieked, although it was really the back-to-back contractions that had her yelling, not anybody in the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched them all exchange nervous glances.

"I'm gonna go get you some more ice chips," Fin offered, although at this point it was clearly unnecessary.

"I'll help," Liv said eagerly before they both disappeared back out the door.

"How ya doin'?" Sonny asked her anxiously, as if it wasn't obvious. He hovered over her at the top of the bed.

"It hurts like hell and they won't give me an epidural. This is worse than being shot," Amanda told him breathlessly, gulping air as she shifted against the mattress in vain. She was nauseated and dizzy but trying to steady herself. "I actually wish someone would shoot me right now so maybe this would feel a little less awful in comparison. You have your gun?"

"That bad, huh?"

"I don't think I can do this," Amanda blurted frantically, spontaneously beginning to cry from both the pain and her mounting fear. It wasn't as if there was an alternative option, but any semblance of a filter was gone by now. "It hurts too much."

Sonny leaned in, quickly taking her nearest hand in his, which she gripped with a fierceness she didn't know she possessed. "Amanda, hey, look at me."

She blinked him into focus through strands of damp blonde hair, chest rising and falling rapidly during a brief reprieve from the pain. She was shivering despite how warm she was. Why didn't she pay more attention in that birthing class?

"You can do this. You already are, and you're doin' a great job," he told her with a special kind of calmness that she appreciated.

"Don't leave," she squeaked, continuing to cling to his fingers.

He shook his head. "I'm right here."

"I just want him to be okay," Amanda admitted helplessly, irrationally worried that nothing good could come from feeling this bad, that she wouldn't be able to do this right.

"You're both gonna be fine. You got this," Sonny promised her.

Scared, she needed to believe him. Amanda nodded quickly, trying to bolster her own confidence with Sonny's. "Okay."

* * *

At 6:02 in the morning, a healthy, screaming Luca Dominick Carisi was born.

Cord cut and his little body roughly cleaned off, he was quickly handed to Amanda. She was crying because she was happy - happy that the hell that had been labor was over, happy that the tiny person she had been carrying around for almost nine months was finally in her arms. Tremulous hands pressed him into the partially bare skin of her heaving chest, only tearing her gaze away from her son to peer up at Sonny, who was hovering close at her shoulder. There was a look of adoration on his face that made the activity surrounding them go quiet, everyone else totally irrelevant in comparison to what Amanda could proudly call hers. His hand lovingly curved around the baby's head with awe in his eyes, and even though Amanda was sticky with sweat, he enthusiastically kissed her hair, face and mouth anyway.

Almost two weeks early, Luca still weighed almost eight pounds. Swaddled in a blanket and a little blue hat after being measured and assessed, one nurse placed him in Sonny's arms while others tended to Amanda. In the throes of childbirth she had sworn that she would never forget how terrible the experience was, but it all seemed hazily distant now. Much like with Jesse, it was only the end result that mattered.

When the flurry of medical staff finally dissipated, the three of them were alone. The railings along the bed lowered, Sonny sat on the edge facing Amanda, as close to her as possible. Luca was quiet now, calmed by the warmth of the blanket he was tightly wrapped up in. Even though she was exhausted, Amanda didn't want to shut her eyes, not when the best thing she had ever seen was happening right in front of her. Head leaned back against the pillow, she admired the two Carisis.

Looking up from Luca, Sonny told her, "I'm so proud of you."

"Of what? _T_ _hat?_ That was nothing," she joked quietly, fully aware of her varying degrees of hysteria in the hours prior. She was mildly horrified by some of the words that had left her mouth at the very height of it all, but until the day a man had to deliver a baby, she wasn't going to apologize.

Sonny grinned at her; she had never seen him so happy.

"He looks like you," Amanda murmured approvingly, reaching out to run fingers over the baby's blanket and then Sonny's forearm.

"Y'think so?"

"Mhm," she replied before asking him sheepishly, "how's your hand?"

He held it up between them. "Fine. I think you only broke a couple bones," Sonny teased.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Sonny shook his head dismissively before he leaned in to kiss her.

"I love you," Amanda whispered, forehead resting against his. She was struck by how good it felt to have him, to know that he was her partner in all of this. The moment Jesse had been born, she had been very much alone. This was so much better. "A lot."

"I love you a lot," he echoed. "You're an amazing woman."

Leaning back, she exhaled shakily. "Don't make me cry," she pleaded. "Again."

"I'm gonna go call my parents and sisters before they all have heart attacks from waitin'," he sighed, carefully passing Luca back to her. He settled a hand on Amanda's knee and squeezed. "You need anything?"

She smiled. "I've got everything I need," she answered honestly.

* * *

"He's beautiful," Liv cooed, holding Luca in her arms and wandering slowly around the hospital room.

"Hey, Carisi, I brought you something," Fin said excitedly. He reached into the pocket inside the breast of his jacket and revealed a silver flask.

"Did you sneak a flask into the hospital?" Amanda stage-whispered from bed, eyes wide in surprise and amusement.

"Yeah, I did. What are they gonna do, call the police?" her partner replied dismissively. "How else are you supposed to celebrate havin' a kid?"

"I think maybe a handshake would suffice," Liv quipped. "It's seven thirty in the morning."

"Nah, this is better." Fin clapped Sonny on the back and handed over the flask with a wide grin. "Congratulations, man. Let's hope your weirdness isn't genetic."

Sonny rolled his eyes good-naturedly before taking a swig.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN:** Some more well-deserved fluff for these two (three!).

* * *

"He's an angel," Sonny's mother breathed dramatically, cradling Luca in her arms that morning. With big, adoring eyes, she reached up and grabbed Sonny's chin between her fingers lovingly. "He looks just like you when you were born."

"Ma, please," Sonny mumbled sheepishly in response.

"How are you feelin', Amanda?" Dominick Sr. asked her.

"I'm okay," she assured him with a nod, sitting upright in bed. He had fathered four children, so Amanda assumed that he was already most likely privy to all of the unpleasant details of childbirth.

"Your sisters are gonna come by soon," Dominick told his son. "They didn't wanna bombard you all at once."

"Oh. That was... thoughtful," Sonny remarked, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"And when you're discharged tomorrow, we'll come get Jesse so she can stay with us for a few days," Sonny's mother added, although she was still gazing down at the baby. "I already promised her we'd make cupcakes with pink frosting and sprinkles."

Amanda smiled gratefully. Sonny's mother was so kind, so eager to be involved, and she felt lucky to have been absorbed so easily into their family. "She's looking forward to it."

"The first few days with a newborn are so exhausting," his mother continued. "On top of havin' a toddler? You need a couple days to get settled. I remember when Gina was born, she was screamin', Sonny was runnin' around wild..."

"It's all worth it, though," Dominick concluded, clapping his son on the shoulder proudly.

"Of course it is." The matriarch of the Carisi family tearfully looked between Amanda and Sonny. "I love you both very much."

* * *

When Beth Anne Rollins made it to New York City that afternoon, she brought Jesse to the hospital with her. Earlier that day, Luca had had a flood of visitors, including Kim and every available Carisi from Manhattan to Jersey. Sonny's mother would have stayed forever if she had been given the option, but thankfully her husband managed to pry her out of the room after five hours of crying and cooing - but not before she promised to return later.

When Amanda's mother arrived, she immediately took her daughter's face in her hands and kissed her forehead. Then she hugged Sonny while Jesse crawled onto Amanda's bed, eager for some attention.

"I can tell he's gonna be handsome," Beth simpered once Luca was cradled in her arms.

Gingerly shifting, Amanda put an arm around Jesse once she was beside her on the bed, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze as she kissed the side of her head.

"Amanda, do something with your hair, would you?" Beth sighed, hovering by the top of her daughter's bed, free fingers toying with Amanda's sloppy braid. "Did you see people all day lookin' like this?"

"Looking like I just had a baby? Yeah, I did," she remarked crassly.

"When I had both you girls I had on a full face of make-up _and_ a fresh manicure," Beth said proudly.

Amanda shot Sonny a furtive, irritated glance; he gave her a helpless, resigned shrug. She suddenly longed for the Carisis to return, because at least all their energy and intensity was rooted in adoration. Beth Rollins was critical to her core.

"I wanna see, gramma," Jesse whined to her grandmother, fidgeting in her spot.

"Alright, Jesse, alright. Be patient. You're just like your mama, gotta have everything right when you want it," Beth sighed.

If she hadn't been so tired, Amanda would have snapped, but she didn't have the strength to argue. Instead, she gently maneuvered Jesse closer to her and instructed her, "put both your arms out, okay?"

Jesse did as her mother told her, fingers wiggling in anticipation.

"Be gentle," Beth cautioned the three-year-old as she carefully passed over Luca.

Arms around Jesse from behind, Amanda helped her daughter balance the swaddled baby in her lap. She looked between her two children expectantly, eyeing Jesse for a reaction. The toddler appeared mildly confused.

"He's not doing anything," Jesse observed, nose scrunched in disappointment.

"He doesn't know how to do a lot. You'll have to teach him stuff," Sonny explained as he stood over them.

"He lives here?" she asked, looking between Amanda and Sonny.

"No, baby. He's going to live with us," Amanda replied with a laugh, giving Jesse a gentle squeeze.

"Not in my room," Jesse replied stubbornly.

"Lord, she really is your daughter, Amanda," Beth murmured sarcastically under her breath.

Ignoring her mother, Amanda assured Jesse, "not in your room. In my room."

"He's okay," Jesse eventually declared before leaning her head back to look up at her mother. "I'm hungry."

"Let's take a walk to the gift shop, huh?" Sonny suggested.

"Yeah!" Jesse replied enthusiastically.

Amanda took Luca from her daughter's arms before she managed to wriggle away and clamber off the bed. Sonny took the toddler's hand to lead her out into the hallway; Amanda was immensely jealous that he got to escape, if only briefly, while she was trapped with her mother.

"You know..." Beth Anne began once they were alone. "Your daughter thinks Sonny is her father."

"I know." Amanda hoped the finality in her tone would indicate to her mother that the subject was not up for discussion.

"When are you plannin' to tell her the truth?"

"Are _you_ trying to offer me parenting advice? _Now?_ "

"I almost told her myself in the cab. It's wrong and you know it."

"Don't you have a mimosa or six you ought to be drinking?" Amanda finally snapped.

"Alright, alright. Do it your way," Beth resigned dramatically. "I'm just saying-"

"I know what you're saying, mama. That's the problem. You're always _saying_ stuff," she interrupted, forehead creased in aggravation.

Beth frowned. "Now I've gotten you all riled up." She smoothed her hand over her daughter's hair and sighed, "you keep makin' that face, you're gonna end up with wrinkles."

* * *

Like clockwork, every two hours, Luca wailed from his bassinet by Amanda and Sonny's bed: he was hungry and he wasn't going to let anybody forget it. On the third night, they stopped bothering to turn the lights off, since the moment either one of them finally closed their eyes, the were often jolted open again a few minutes later.

Body still sore, Amanda carefully got herself out of bed at three a.m., the room dim around her. She reached into Luca's crib to find him red-faced and angry as he cried. Blanket and all, she scooped him up and held him close. "Shh, sweet boy. I know, I know, you're hungry," she murmured into the side of his head.

Walking back to the bed, Sonny was shirtless, apparently still passed out on his stomach beneath tangled sheets. He must have finally gotten so tired that the noise was irrelevant. She envied him, but he also couldn't be of much service when it came to feeding a newborn. She settled back against a pile of pillows before maneuvering herself out of the scooped neckline of her tank top to breastfeed. The silence that ensued was wonderful and combined with the warm, gentle rhythm of Luca's feeding, Amanda felt her heavy eyelids fall.

She thought of Jesse and her first nights at home, and how she had probably cried more often than the infant. Amanda had felt so alone back then, so overwhelmed with the task of taking care of something so small, so fragile. Her own mother had been so angry at her and Kim had disappeared, leaving Amanda to muddle through the Jesse's early days with only the SVU squad as support. Now, she was still somewhat unsure that she knew what she was doing, but at least Sonny was there to share in her confusion.

Her eyes flickered open again, her head lolling to one side to look over at the man next to her. From his position on his stomach he was looking at her, too, his arms bent beneath the pillow that was supporting his head. He looked exhausted, but in a content sort of way. She gave him a tired smile. "I thought you were finally asleep."

"I was, for ten minutes maybe."

"Y'want me to go in the living room? Then you could turn off the the light for a little."

"No." He reached a long arm out to rest a hand atop her thigh. "Stay."

"Are you sure?"

With a yawn, Sonny pulled himself out from under the messy sheets in order to sit up beside her. He ran rough fingers through his disheveled hair and then rubbed his eyes. "I'm sure. I'm up."

She looked down at Luca, his little hand curled up by his face as he nursed. He looked peaceful, relaxed. Casting a mischievous glance back at Sonny, she asked, "'cause my boob's out?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not for me it isn't."

"Don't be jealous."

"Y'know what I've been thinkin' about?"

"Hm?"

"How crazy it is that he's gonna be a person in the world. Doin' stuff, contributin' to society."

Amanda wasn't sure if she was just sleep-deprived, but she found his simple reflection to be incredibly sweet. "I wonder what he'll be like."

"I egged my own house as a kid. I hope he's not like that," Sonny remarked sarcastically. He reached out to scratch behind Frannie's ears when she made her way over to him on the bed. She settled half her body across his outstretched legs.

"Why the hell would you do that?" she laughed.

He shrugged. "I wanted to see what it'd be like. All the cool kids in the neighborhood would go around doin' it but they wouldn't invite me. I wanted to see what all the hype was about. My father was pretty pissed."

"Not that I condone destruction of property, but why wouldn't they bring you along?" Amanda asked him curiously.

Sonny leaned back against the headboard lazily. "'Cause I was scrawny and nerdy. I was a fast runner, though, so they shoulda let me. I coulda been a real asset."

"Well, I'm glad you're on the right side of the law," she replied with a little smirk.

He ran his fingers over the stubble along his jaw absently. "I didn't wanna become a police officer back then, though, so it felt pretty crappy."

Frowning, Amanda carefully rearranged herself to switch Luca to her other side. He fussed a little before nursing contentedly again. "Kids are cruel."

Sonny nodded slowly.

"He's only been with us five days, Sonny. Don't worry about bullies yet," Amanda told him gently.

"I know," he agreed sheepishly.

Head resting back against the pillow, she sleepily admired his profile in comfortable silence until he eventually caught her staring.

"What?" he asked her, eyebrow raised.

"Nothing." She shook her head before adding simply, "You're a good man."

He gave her an appreciative smile then leaned in to kiss her. "I need a snack. I'm gettin' the ice cream you hid at the back of the freezer," he announced, pulling himself out of bed.

"I wasn't hiding it. It... fit better back there," Amanda replied.

"Yeah, okay," he called skeptically as he made his way into the kitchen. When he returned, a spoon was already stuck inside the pint of oatmeal cookie ice cream.

"I'll trade you. My arms are falling asleep," she told him sweetly, readjusting her tank top and cradling a now-sleeping Luca.

Knowing better than to challenge her in this scenario, Sonny obediently gave her the ice cream and took the baby against his chest, a cloth draped over his shoulder. He drifted around the room leisurely, hand gently patting Luca's back.

"I miss Jesse," Amanda murmured, suddenly sad, spoon digging aimlessly around the pint. Hormones were a real bitch.

"She'll be back in a coupla days," Sonny reminded her.

She nodded. "I know. And it's nice your parents can spoil her right now, but I'm worried she's gonna think Luca replaced her."

"She knows that we love her," he insisted. "It's just gonna take a little adjustin'. She's used to havin' all the attention. I mean, you let her get away with murder."

Amanda licked ice cream off her spoon. "I do not."

"You do. She's three goin' on thirteen. She's got the run of the place."

"She's my baby," she replied defensively, voice cracking with emotion.

Sonny sunk down on the edge of the bed next to her. "That's my point, 'Manda," he said gently. "I don't think she's got any reason to doubt how much you love her."

Amanda set the ice cream down on the bedside table, a hand reaching out to curve around Luca's head against Sonny's shoulder. He had the fuzzy beginnings of hair. "I hope you're right."


	23. Chapter 23

Being alone with a toddler and a newborn was a challenge. Amanda didn't envy Sonny - who was back at work after a week of little to no sleep - but she wasn't exactly having fun, either. She figured the same women who described childbirth as a 'beautiful' experience also found the early days of juggling an infant and a three-year-old to be life-affirming. Not Amanda: she was exhausted and moody and frazzled, and even though Audrey could help out during the day, she was on her own in the evening.

She wandered around the living room with Luca against her chest that night, hoping that the movement would soothe him to sleep. He had just begun to exhaust himself, his cries now soft, half-hearted whimpers, when Jesse emerged from her room.

"Hey, you. What are you doing out of bed?" Amanda asked the toddler.

"I wanna sleep in your bed," Jesse replied sweetly.

She shook her head. "We talked about this, remember? You've gotta stay in your bed."

"No," she told her mother stubbornly.

"Jesse," Amanda said, her tone warning. "Go back to your room, please."

" _No! I wanna sleep in your bed!_ " Jesse demanded loudly, stamping her little foot into the wood floor, fists balled up at her sides with her anger.

The baby fussed at the sound of his sister's agitation. "Alright, Jesse, lower your voice. Calm down..." Amanda attempted weakly, holding out one free hand for her daughter to take. "I'll go back to your bed with you."

"No!" the toddler shrieked again before dropping to the ground to begin the type of flailing and thrashing that only a pissed-off three-year-old was capable of. Her dramatic wailing was soon joined by Luca's and it was then that Amanda found herself wanting to cry, too.

"Jesse..." Amanda tried to call to her daughter over her hysterics, but it was futile.

"No, no, no!" the little girl kept repeating, loud and breathless. Frannie drifted over and sniffed her curiously, but Jesse didn't seem to care. "I don't wanna sleep in my bed, I wanna sleep in yours!"

"You _have_ to sleep in your bed."

"No!"

"You can sleep on the floor then, how about that?" Amanda snapped, her frayed nerves getting the best of her.

Jesse didn't seem to hear her, she was so dedicated to her full-body tantrum. Amanda was left standing helplessly with two inconsolable children until Sonny came through the door. He stopped in his tracks at the display taking place in the middle of the apartment, like a person witnessing a horribly fascinating car crash.

"Okay, wow," he said flatly, eyes wide in surprise.

"Jesse doesn't want to sleep in her bed," Amanda explained, voice quivering from her frustration. "I had just gotten the baby to sleep when..." There was no need to finish her sentence: Jesse's theatrics spoke for themselves.

"Jesse, hey, what's this all about?" Sonny asked the toddler cheerfully, standing over her.

"Mama's _mean!_ " Jesse wailed.

Amanda couldn't believe it, but she felt tears stinging her eyes at her three-year-old's comment. She didn't let them fall, but they were there, blurring her vision as a reminder that she was so tired that she had allowed her toddler to hurt her feelings.

Looking between them all, Sonny clasped his hands together definitively and suggested, "okay, let's take this discussion somewhere else, huh?" It wasn't really a question: he plucked Jesse up off the floor and she was so surprised that she momentarily ceased flailing as he quickly carried her to her bed.

The door to Jesse's room was left open just a crack, and once Luca was calm again, Amanda hovered near by in the hallway to listen.

"I can't help you if you're yellin' like a wild woman," Sonny said playfully to the little girl.

"Mama... says... I have to... sleep in... my bed," Jesse cried, gulping for air between words.

"Of course you gotta sleep in your own bed. That's why it's your bed."

"Noooo!" she moaned. "Mama let's me sleep there!"

"Yeah, I know she does sometimes," he sighed, and Amanda felt guilty. "But now it's gotta be a little different with the baby."

In response, all Amanda heard was Jesse's muffled crying and babbling, as she most likely had her head stubbornly buried in her pillow. She gently rested her cheek against the top of Luca's head as she waited.

"I need you to do me a favor, okay? Hey, are you listenin'?" she heard Sonny say.

Jesse gave a little squeal through her tears, most likely because Sonny had tickled her to get her attention.

"I need you to promise me that you're gonna try _really hard_ to be nice to your mom and Luca, okay? I don't like seein' everybody sad," Sonny explained gently. "Tomorrow when I come home, I want everybody smilin'. Got it?"

Jesse sniffled loudly, dramatically - but had stopped her sobbing.

Amanda was certain she had never loved Sonny Carisi more than she did in that very moment.

* * *

A few weeks later, Amanda's phone rang. The screen read 'Amaro.'

Pacing around the apartment, eyes on Luca sleeping in his bassinet, she hesitated before she picked up. "Hey..."

"Hey. How's it going?" floated Nick Amaro's familiar voice through the speaker.

"Uh, good, it's going good. How are you?" she replied. They didn't really talk anymore - just an occasional exchange of texts.

"I'm doing alright. Congrats on the baby, by the way."

She raised her eyebrows, amused that he had tossed in the bit about the baby like an afterthought. "Thanks..."

"I'm coming into town for the police conference in two weeks. Are you goin'?"

She stopped her pacing, surprised. "During the day, no, but I was gonna meet y'all out after."

"So I'll see you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, cool."

"I gotta run... kinda got my hands full," she lied. For once, the apartment was quiet.

"I bet. Alright, take care."

"You too."

Amanda hung up, confused.

* * *

If Amanda didn't cook _before_ she had children, she certainly wasn't going to start now. It was always an immense relief for her to see Sonny in the kitchen; assuming his day wasn't too long, he always liked to make dinner. She hated admitting that he was better than her at anything, but this was the exception. She loved watching him, his lean, muscular frame moving expertly from pot to pan to plate, always appearing content - like it was a joy, not a task. That night Amanda 'contributed' as she usually did: she hovered curiously with a glass of wine - except this time, she had a content baby in her arms, too. Jesse was blissfully quiet, watching television in the living room, behaving on the promise that she would get dessert later.

"How was the day?" Amanda asked Sonny curiously.

"Eh. We had to bring in Fin's rope guy for that kidnapping-rape case we've been workin' on. He's smart and all but I forgot how much he talks. He's like the human equivalent of a nap," he replied, moving minced garlic around a skillet.

"Oh, man. I love that guy," Amanda whined over the rim of her glass, jealous of all she was apparently missing.

"How was your day?" he asked, like he didn't already know.

"Fine..." she said. As much as she would be sad to leave Luca and Jesse after maternity leave was through, she was eager to get back to work with adults. She added casually, "I, uh, got an interesting phone call."

"Yeah? From who?" He looked over his shoulder at her curiously.

She cleared her throat and replied into her wine, "Nick."

"Nick who?"

"Amaro."

He was tossing shrimp into the pan, but stopped to turn around and look at her. "What does he want?"

"He's in town in a couple weeks for the conference," Amanda explained.

"And...?"

"He wanted to see if we - I - was going."

Sonny turned back to the stove to resume what he was doing. After a minute, he asked, "have you guys been talkin'?"

"Here and there, but nothing substantial. Only about work stuff," she told him carefully, honestly.

He didn't say anything for a moment, busying himself with the components of the pasta dish was making. Eventually, he remarked, "he's bad news, 'Manda. I told you that from the start."

"His heart's in the right place..." she trailed off, because she truly believed it.

"Yeah, well, his heart oughta stay in California," Sonny mumbled.

"Ooh, Lu, I think daddy is hangry," Amanda sing-songed playfully to the barely-aware infant in her arms.

With eyebrows raised, Sonny gave her a pointed look over his shoulder. "I just think it's a little weird he called you to tell you that."

"Maybe he didn't want it to be awkward, us randomly running into him there," she offered.

Draining pasta into the sink, Sonny replied crassly, "interesting theory, Rollins, but I doubt that's why."


	24. Chapter 24

**AN:** Some more stuff is just around the corner... ;-)

* * *

Two weeks later, Amanda was spared seven straight hours of a torturous lecturing about police work and public safety because of her obligation to Luca. Of course she could have left him with Audrey, but she was far too smart for that. Instead, Amanda gave her the day off and asked if she could come for a few hours in the evening instead.

It would be nice to socialize with her coworkers again, if only for a few hours. It had been seven weeks since Luca had been born and she had since lost every last ounce of baby weight - partly because of breastfeeding, partly because she had banned ice cream from the apartment until further notice. Being fit had always been a point of pride for Amanda, so she wasn't content with using motherhood as an excuse to let herself go, even if she was a little too hard on herself sometimes. Forever a perfectionist, when she set her mind to something, she teetered on the edge of obsession. It was the thread of addiction that still ran through her; she got high off of completing something difficult. So when she successfully buttoned up her favorite skinny jeans that evening, she breathed an emphatic _yes!_ alone in her bedroom.

By the time she kissed her children goodbye no less than five times and arrived at Hudson Station bar, almost everyone appeared intoxicated. Amanda couldn't blame them: they had just endured hours of mind-numbing presentations, most of them given by blissfully retired officers or those who worked in the private sector who were woefully out of touch with the real challenges NYPD faced. She found Sonny by the bar with Liv and quickly realized that he was drunk, too - she spotted his familiar hand gestures flying as he spoke before she actually saw his face. Strangely, she was glad: he had been working so hard, he deserved to have a good time.

"Hey, guys," Amanda said once she was at their side.

"Hey!" Sonny exclaimed.

"Amanda, I'm so glad you could stop by," Liv told her from her seat at the bar. From the flush in her cheeks, Amanda was certain she had already had several glasses of red wine.

Sonny stretched a long arm around Amanda, beer dangling from his hand. "Doesn't she look great, Lieu?" he asked proudly, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

Amanda rolled her eyes, more amused than anything.

"She always looks good," Liv responded diplomatically.

Resting a hand on Sonny's back, Amanda looked between them. "How was the conference?"

"You didn't miss much," Liv admitted. "Hours of pie charts and graphs and a mediocre lunch."

"Fin is totally hittin' on some lady over there," Sonny remarked randomly, distracted, blue eyes on the opposite corner of the bar. "I'm gonna go bust his balls for a minute," he announced like a mischievous teenager before slipping away.

"Hey, save my seat for me," Liv said to Amanda. "I've had to pee for an hour but Carisi never runs out of things to talk about when he's had a few too many."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know," she told her lieutenant with a smirk.

Obediently perched on Liv's barstool, Amanda ordered herself a whiskey neat. While she waited, her eyes scanned the busy room and she felt at twinge of jealousy - not because they had all attended the conference, but because all of them were working. She wondered if she would ever be able to truly feel balanced when it came to her love for her family and her love for her job.

"There you are."

Startled out of her reverie, Amanda turned around in her seat to see Nick Amaro smiling at her. Dressed casually in a button-down and dark jeans, he was just as handsome as ever. His skin was tan, hair dark, shoulders broad - but Amanda didn't feel her heart skip a beat like she used to when he looked at her. As recently as two years ago she would have done anything for his attention, to feel desired by him in some way. Even if she couldn't act on it, she still wanted to know she was on Nick's mind. Yet her crush on him had been rooted in dysfunction; much to Amanda's surprise, she felt very far away from that now.

"Hey, Nick," she greeted him, giving him a hug because that felt like the right thing to do. Even with his strong arms around her, albeit briefly, she still felt nothing. "I only got here a little while ago."

When Nick pulled back, she noticed that his dark eyes were glassy, probably from booze. "Wow, you look great," he told her.

His compliment was just a little too enthusiastic and Amanda shifted on the stool. "Thanks. You do, too." She took a sip of her drink, the liquor warming her chest. "You see everybody?"

"Yeah, I've been making the rounds all day in between talks. It's weird to be back."

"I bet. How's Zara? And Gil?"

"They're great. Both doin' good in school, playing sports, all that stuff. They love California."

"And Maria?" Amanda asked curiously over her whiskey.

A shadow crossed Nick's face. "She's getting remarried."

"Oh. Wow. Really?"

"Yeah, some guy she worked with at the Pentagon. A real stuck-up suit, you know? He golfs, has a boat... Zara loves that damn boat," Nick explained bitterly. The alcohol in his system was clearly making him more transparent; he didn't typically offer details about his personal life, not even when they were sleeping together. "They just got engaged a couple weeks ago. Zara thinks it's great, she's excited to live in a big house by the water. When I have her on the weekends, it's hard to compete with a yacht."

Amanda scrunched her nose up. "I'm sorry, Nick. That sounds rough."

He shrugged before he offered her a sly smile. "Hey, do a shot with me."

She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "I probably shouldn't..."

"Oh, come on, Rollins. Carisi's made you into such a wet blanket," Nick scoffed.

"What'd you just call me?" Amanda laughed, sincerely hoping he was joking.

"Carisi's made you all... not you," he explained.

"What'd I do?" came Sonny's curious voice from over Amanda's shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him set his now-empty beer glass down on the bar top.

Nick continued, "I was just saying-"

"Nick, you probably shouldn't-"

"-that Amanda's different now," he concluded.

"She is?" Sonny asked, sounding skeptical.

"Hey, guys, can we not talk about me, in front of me?" Amanda requested weakly, growing more and more uncomfortable by the second.

"Carisi, you just kinda took over after I left, huh?" Nick observed.

"What?" Sonny replied, sounding confused.

"Just swooped right in there and went after Rollins."

"Nick-" Amanda began, her tone warning.

Nick charged ahead anyway, "which is sort of funny, because you're not her type at all."

"You got a problem, Amaro?" Sonny asked brusquely.

The two men were nose-to-nose now, staring at one another, Amanda an anxious bystander on her bar stool.

"I'm just saying. I _know_ Amanda," Nick said provocatively, eyes shining with the kind of shrewdness that Amanda recalled well. She knew he wanted to make sure that Sonny remembered that they had been more than just coworkers.

Before she could stop it, she saw Sonny shove Nick. Not one to be a victim, Nick responded immediately, and soon they were disrupting the area around them with their mounting physical aggression. It was a flurry of arms, legs and cursing, each of them trying to overpower the other. Patrons around them were jostled, jumping out of the way as the fight escalated, the chaos rippling through out the room as everybody became aware of the conflict. Glasses shattering could be heard over the sounds of the scuffle, neither one of them caring who they disturbed.

"Guys, hey! Knock it off!" Amanda yelled, leaping from the bar stool. She reached out for the back of Sonny's shirt but it slipped right through her fingers. "Sonny, enough!"

The bar was filled with cops, of course, so soon people were grabbing at each man, prying them apart. The two detectives were both seething, chests rising and falling rapidly, faces distorted with anger. Amanda's eyes were wide with horrified disbelief.

"We're going. _Now_ ," she barked, grabbing Sonny by the arm and tugging him away from the kind stranger who had helped intervene. Sonny was attempting to linger, glaring at Nick, but she eventually yanked on him hard enough that he begrudgingly moved through the crowd. She didn't look at anybody as they made their hurried exit, but she knew they were all looking at them - how could they not? She only hoped that Liv hadn't seen or worse - Chief Dodds, who was most likely lurking somewhere.

The moment they were outside, she whistled expertly for a cab. "What the hell were you thinking? Are you crazy? You know you technically assaulted him? You better hope IAB doesn't get wind of this," she exploded on Sonny. When a taxi rolled up to the curb, she opened the door and ordered, "get in."

Sonny looked like a sulking teenager as he maneuvered his long limbs into the cab. Amanda followed suit, gave the driver their address and prayed for a quick trip home.

"I told ya, he's bad news," Sonny offered, sounding all too casual.

"You started it!" she blurted.

"Now you're defendin' him? That's real nice, 'Manda. Real nice," he babbled.

"You're wasted and we are not talking about this right now," she concluded through gritted teeth, arms folded over her chest. She made brief but nevertheless embarrassing eye contact with the driver in his rear view mirror.

"You're back early," Audrey observed from the living room couch once they had returned to the apartment. Luca was sleeping peacefully in his bassinet beside her.

"I know, we... I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" Amanda murmured, eyes shifting to Sonny who was wandering toward the bedroom.

Audrey got the hint: soon she was standing up and gathering her things to go, leaving Amanda alone. With a sigh, she hovered over Luca, content in a blue striped onesie, his little chest moving rhythmically with his breathing. She smiled, a gentle knuckle grazing his soft cheek, envious of whatever dream world he was in.

Walking quietly into the bedroom, she shut the door behind her. Sonny was sitting on the edge of the bed, attempting to pull off his shoes.

"I can't believe you did that," Amanda said.

"Psh, whatever, we're both fine," he reasoned dismissively, tossing a shoe haphazardly.

"That's not the point," she insisted.

"Then what is, 'Manda? You just keep yellin' and yellin'... blah, blah, blah..." he murmured with a little wave of his hand. The other shoe hit the floor with a 'clunk.'

She clenched her jaw, trying to keep her cool. "He was trying to get a rise outta you on purpose and you let him. That's what he does, that's what he's always done."

"Oh right, because you know each other _so well,_ " he remarked, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Drop the rock, Sonny!" she exclaimed, exasperated by his drunken attitude. "Were you or were you not present two months ago when I gave birth to _your_ kid?!"

He looked up at her, petulant.

"The Sonny Carisi _I_ know doesn't try to beat the shit out of people. So whoever _you_ are, get your ass to bed, because I want him back by tomorrow," she demanded, eyes narrow and threatening, before storming back out into the living room.

* * *

Amanda was up early, as usual. The end-of-summer sun was shining and she thought it best that everyone get some air. She took Jesse, Luca and Frannie on a leisurely walk to breakfast at a local cafe while Sonny slept off all of the alcohol he had consumed the night before. They found a table outside, Jesse sitting across from her mother, picking happily at a giant blueberry muffin. Frannie napped below the toddler, waking occasionally to eat her stray crumbs. When they were finished, Amanda dropped Jesse off at a neighbor's house for a play date before returning home. She entered the quiet apartment with two coffees in hand, because even if she was annoyed with Sonny, keeping coffee from a cop was truly unforgivable.

She cracked the living room windows and pulled back the curtains to let the light in. Taking Luca out of the baby carrier and setting the contraption aside, she put the baby in his swing. Moments after the gentle swaying movement began, she caught sight of his little mouth turning upward in a grin.

"Are you smiling for mama? Are you happy in your swing?" Amanda cooed, crouching down in front of him, her face bright with over-exaggerated excitement. She gave his tiny, bare foot a playful squeeze before she settled down onto the couch close by.

Sonny had left a half-finished crossword puzzle on the coffee table, so she set it on the arm of the couch and began to try to complete some of the empty answers. She sipped from her coffee, as content as she could be given what had happened the night before. Fin had called her already to be debriefed, since he was supposed to be meeting up with Nick that day for a Mets game. Her partner pretended not to like gossip, but over the years Amanda had learned that he was more interested in it than he let on.

After a half hour, Amanda looked up from the puzzle when she heard the bedroom door creak open. Sonny emerged, hair wild and eyes bleary, shuffling over to her in sweatpants and an ancient blue 120th Precinct t-shirt.

"You look like shit," she observed with a contrasting sweet smile.

"I feel like shit," he grumbled, ruffling his hair with his hand so it stuck up in all different directions.

"Got you some coffee from Sweetleaf." Amanda gestured to the large to-go cup sitting on the table.

"Thanks," he murmured, taking the coffee as he sat next to her on the couch.

"Y'want a bagel?" she offered.

He shook his head, cringing slightly. "Nah."

"Exactly how much did you have to drink last night?"

"Just a few shots with beer backs..."

"How many is 'a few?'"

"What, you wanna breathalyze me, officer?"

She set the crossword puzzle and pen back down on the table and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm just trying to figure out what would possess you to try to fight Nick in the middle of a bar like a twenty-something frat boy."

"He's a jackass."

"You both are."

"I know that I shouldn't have started it, but he was lookin' for it."

"Sonny..."

"Do you even get what he was tryin' to do?"

"Yes-"

"Maria doesn't want him anymore so he thought he could weasel his way back into your life."

She took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. "I guess I just don't care."

"Wha'?" Sonny set down his cup and stared at her, confused.

" _I don't care_ ," Amanda repeated emphatically. She pulled herself up from the couch to take Luca out of the swing, holding him playfully up above her to prompt another grin. "Such a smiley boy today," she murmured approvingly as he blinked happily down at her. She held him against her chest and turned back to Sonny, a hand reaching out to tame some of his especially haphazard tufts of hair before she returned to her spot beside him. "I don't care what Nick's intentions were," she finally concluded.

"I do," he retorted. He carefully took the baby from Amanda, settling him on his own chest instead. He set a big hand atop Luca's small back. "Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Again: _who cares?_ Y'all had it out and he'll still keep on being Nick Amaro. Let him live his miserable life. He was miserable when I met him and he's still that way now. We aren't." She scooted closer into Sonny's side, arm stretched out along the top of the back of the couch above him. Lazy fingers toyed with his unruly hair again, tilting her head to look at his face as she added playfully, "I like it better when I'm the crazy one, okay? No offense, but it looks better on me."


	25. Chapter 25

**AN:** Work is a tad busy so there may be a bit of a delay posting more, but I'll do my best! Hopefully this will hold you over. ;-)

* * *

At ten o'clock at night on a Tuesday, Amanda heard Sonny come home. In the bathroom brushing her teeth with the door open, she listened to his heavy footsteps walk further into the apartment.

"Hey," he called to her, his voice coming from the bedroom now.

She rinsed her mouth of remaining toothpaste. "Hi. You're done kinda late." After after eight o'clock was late to her now.

Sonny made a low noise of acknowledgement in response, which most likely indicated that his day had been difficult.

Returning her toothbrush to its rightful place, she got an idea. Or rather, a feeling. With a little hop, she perched herself on the counter top, bare legs dangling. "Hey, come in here for a sec?"

" _Why?_ " he groaned, the adult equivalent of a whine. She couldn't blame him: over the years they had known one another, she had probably asked a lot of weird things of him at inopportune times.

"Because I need you for something," Amanda responded simply, absently studying the frayed cuticles around her nails. She was never one for manicures, much to her mother's chagrin.

When Sonny appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, his tie and jacket were off and he looked tired and annoyed. "Whaddya need?" he sighed. He was such a good sport; she hoped that all of his good deeds would be rewarded in the afterlife somehow.

"Come here, you can't see it from there. And shut the door."

Clearly disgruntled, he did what she said and moved toward her. Once he was close enough, she extended a leg out to hook around his waist. She grabbed his adorably confused face between her hands to kiss him, hard and passionate. He may have been surprised for a second, but soon he melted into her as if he had been waiting for it all along. The new stubble on his skin stung hers in the most pleasant way as their lips and tongues met over and over, quick and frenzied. She felt his rough hands traveling hungrily all over her, exploring familiar territory.

"I've been thinkin' about you all day," he said gruffly against her mouth, palms curving around her ass to pull her closer, so she was just barely balancing on the edge of the counter top. The throaty tone of his voice made her heart race in anticipation.

"Mm, shame on you, Detective, you had work to do," she murmured coyly, fingers making fast work of the buttons on his shirt.

She felt his hands beneath the hem of her tank top, sliding upward to grope greedily at her chest. "Shit," he breathed salaciously, "I love your t-"

"Mama?"

A little face appeared in the small space between the now-open door and its frame.

"Jesse!" Amanda yelped breathlessly, forcefully shoving Sonny away from her, sending him stumbling backwards. He looked stunned, back pressed against the wall, his body hidden from Jesse by the ajar door. She frantically adjusted her shirt, eyes on the toddler who was peering in at her from the hallway. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I wanna snack," Jesse explained innocently.

"What? I... okay... it's late and, well, just go back to your room," Amanda stammered, fingers smoothing down her disheveled bangs.

"Is dad in there, too?" Jesse asked curiously.

"What? Of course not, no," she lied.

"You're not supposed to sit on the counter. You told me," the little girl added matter-of-factly.

"I know. I'm getting down right now. Go to your room, I'll be right there," Amanda insisted.

Jesse eyed her suspiciously for a moment before she padded back down the hallway.

Wide eyes back on Sonny, Amanda slapped a hand over her mouth. "Fuck."

Sonny now appeared more amused than horrified as he gingerly peeled himself off the wall. "Jesus, you're strong. I think you broke my shoulder," he groaned dramatically, circling his arm in its joint carefully.

"I did what I had to do," she replied, a little grin tugging at the corners of her lips as her heart rate slowed.

Smirking, he shook his head and took her chin between her fingers to inform her flirtatiously, "no, you'll be doin' what you have to do later."

* * *

"I met a guy."

Amanda stopped chewing, a mouth full of pizza. She looked over at Kim sitting next to her on her couch. "What?" she asked thickly.

Kim cradled Luca in her arms, feeding him from a bottle. " _I met a guy._ "

"Kim..." Amanda sighed, tossing the crust of her slice back into the box on the coffee table. This was supposed to be a peaceful Thursday night, but in typical Kim fashion, she always had to keep her older sister on her toes.

"He's real nice, 'Manda. Seriously," Kim said.

"You've said that about every guy you've dated," Amanda reminded her.

"I know, but this one is different," she insisted.

"Where did you meet him?" Amanda asked skeptically.

"Bible study," her sister answered proudly.

"Is he a drug dealer?"

" _No._ "

"In a gang?"

"No."

"How about the mafia?"

"No!"

"He have a record?"

" _Amanda!_ "

She rubbed at her forehead and crinkled her nose, visibly anxious. "You don't always have the best judgement."

"His name is Connor and he knows everythin' about me, even that I'm on parole," Kim explained.

"That's an important detail," Amanda murmured sarcastically.

"I really want you to meet him," she whined.

"Meet who?" Sonny asked curiously, emerging from the bedroom to make his way to the kitchen.

"My boyfriend," Kim explained.

Sonny raised his eyebrows in surprise but kept his mouth shut as he opened the fridge.

"'Manda isn't bein' very open to the idea," Kim went on. "But I _really_ want y'all to meet him."

"In my defense, every time you bring somebody around, I end up in jail or about to lose my job," Amanda scoffed.

Sonny cracked open a bottle of beer. "Why don't you two come over some night? We'll all have dinner."

Amanda's mouth hung open, speechless.

"Really? Oh, Sonny, that'd be great!" her sister exclaimed with a wide grin, so excited that she almost let go of Luca's bottle. She glanced smugly over at Amanda.

"He doesn't have a record, does he?" Sonny asked, and Amanda felt slightly validated.

"No..." Kim answered.

He took a swig of his beer. "Good. You're the only felon we allow in this house."

* * *

Amanda's Saturday nights were a lot different than they used to be. There was no excitement or chaos, but she had learned to find satisfaction in the mundane. Her favorite moments had become the quiet ones, when Sonny was home, Jesse was occupied and the baby was content. It was enough to just be around them all; they reminded her to practice gratitude. Her old life had been so fractured and lonely - now her heart was so full, some days she was certain it would burst.

She and Sonny sat on the couch, his long legs outstretched so his feet could rest on the coffee table, her own draped comfortably over his lap. He rested a crossword puzzle on her knee, stealing glances of the Yankees game on television between words. She fiddled with the surprisingly high-tech baby monitor Fin had bought them when Luca was born, the sleek little screen showing their baby asleep on his back in his crib. They could typically always hear him cry because their apartment wasn't very big, but Amanda liked visual confirmation that he was still exactly where he was supposed to be. Years working as a SVU detective had made her paranoid; Fin probably understood that.

With the monitor set on the end table, Amanda relaxed back into the couch, eyes on the baseball game. Although she was a devout Braves fan, she genuinely enjoyed watching the sport no matter what team was playing - even if she was no longer betting. Her concentration kept drifting, though, as she found herself worrying about Kim and whatever relationship she had gotten herself into now.

"Here, finish this for me," Sonny sighed, passing her the crossword, defeated.

Eager for a distraction, she took the puzzle into her own lap and scrutinized it, chewing on the end of his pen. It was almost completely filled in except for a few answers here and there. Most notably, 67-across was blank, which was fourteen letters long. That particular clue was 'words with a certain ring to them,' which Amanda considered a fairly average hint (over the years she'd known Sonny, she had gotten oddly familiar with patterns in crosswords). Competitive and determined to finish it, Amanda began to attempt to fill in the missing 'down' answers. She scribbled a 'w' here and an 'm' there, a random 'y,' brow creased in thought as she re-read the same clues over and over to try to get more clarity.

"This one's a real bitch," she murmured, pen paused between squares.

"Mm." Sonny's eyes were on the television.

Diligently Amanda plugged away, eventually scribbling in an 'a' and a 'i,' pausing her work only to catch an occasional exciting snippet of the baseball game or to glance at the baby monitor. Aaron Judge hit a home run, the bases loaded, a 'l' and a 'u.' Luca flailed a bit mid-dream, a 'm,' a 'r,' then a tentative 'e.'

"'Canary,'" she mumbled to herself, getting another 'r.' What was a six letter word for basement? "Oh, 'cellar,'" she finally concluded, scratching in an 'l.'

Blue eyes narrowed on the three remaining empty squares before the answer made sense. "Ha! I got it!" she exclaimed, finishing with an enthusiastic 'o' and 'y.' She held the puzzle up in front of her to proudly read the now-completed 67-across: "'will you marry me.'"

Her legs still resting across Sonny's lap, she felt something on her knee that distracted her from admiring her victory. When she looked down, she saw a small, dark blue box balancing there. It was cracked open: inside sat a perfectly oval solitaire diamond atop a delicate gold band. The ring winked up at her in the light; it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry Amanda had ever seen. The paper fell from her hands, the pen rolled beneath the couch. Her heart was in her throat.

Sonny's warm and familiar voice floated through her surprise: "Well, will ya?"

Words with a certain ring to them. _Will you marry me?_ Amanda was frozen, eyes wide. There was heat creeping into her cheeks, spreading down her neck and chest. She couldn't determine if she was thrilled or terrified - maybe it was both. Either way, it felt like the moment a roller coaster dropped off of the edge of a steep hill.

"That's for me?" she croaked stupidly.

She heard Sonny laugh, shifting in his spot so his feet were off the table and his body was turned more toward hers. "Who else would it be for?"

 _Anybody else_ , she answered him in her head. _Literally anyone else in the world, but not Amanda Rollins. Not the girl who grew up in a glorified trailer, the gambling addict, the loose cannon, the darkness to Sonny Carisi's light._

"I..." She remembered Kim telling her, _things can be different, if you let them._ Why did 'letting them' feel so frightening? Amanda had been shot, held hostage, punched and kicked and verbally abused in the line of duty - but none of that was as scary as the stunning ring that glittered before her.

Amanda finally looked over at Sonny, who was watching her face with so much anticipation and eagerness that it made tears spring to her eyes. He loved her and she knew it. She loved him, too - very much. If she had managed to battle fear for the sake of her job as a police officer, a life with Sonny Carisi was so worth overcoming any of her lingering demons regarding commitment. He was more valuable than anything.

"Yes. Yes," Amanda finally concluded, her own voice sounding foreign to her.

A combination of relief and happiness broke across Sonny's features at her answer. He kissed her hard and that's when tears slid down Amanda's cheeks; she was overwhelmed in the best way.

"C'mon, put it on," Sonny coaxed excitedly, picking up the little box between them. He carefully slid the ring on her: just over one carat, it rested perfectly on her trembling finger.

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she breathed shakily, blinking down at it. She couldn't believe a hand wearing _that_ was attached to _her_ body.

"The stone was my grandmother's," he explained. "When I took your necklace to be fixed, they reset it for me."

Now she was practically sobbing, the salt of her own tears stinging her lips, her vision blurred. She had craved a family ever since she was old enough to realize that what she had was too disjointed and chaotic to support her. She had spent years trying to fill a void with risky behavior and toxic relationships, always insisting that mediocre was enough. There was a wholeness that Sonny provided that had allowed Amanda to feel a part of something real, something good - and the symbol of it now sat shining atop her finger.

"Amanda," he chuckled gently, thumbs grazing the wetness beneath her eyes. "Don't cry."

"I'm sorry, it's just..." Amanda used the heels of her palms to rub more tears away. She didn't know how to explain. She turned in her seat and slid her arms around him, squeezing herself against the side of his torso, her face buried in the warm crook of his neck. She felt Sonny's arms envelope her in return, holding her close. All she could whisper was, "thank you."


	26. Chapter 26

"You must be the only girl on earth who doesn't call everybody she knows the second she gets engaged."

Kim held her sister's left hand tightly, eyes studying her engagement ring with the intensity and expertise of somebody who used to steal people's valuables. They sat together at the diner Kim worked at, Luca in his stroller beside the table they shared. Jesse had started pre-school earlier that morning and Amanda had cried, but the toddler had flounced away into the classroom like she was embarrassed that her mother was clearly overreacting. Even though Luca was only a little over two months old, it still felt strange to only be toting around just one child.

"He only asked me on Saturday," Amanda told Kim.

"That was two whole days ago! How'd he do it?" her sister exclaimed.

"He knows a guy at the Ledger and faked a crossword puzzle. One of the answers was 'will you marry me?'"

"Ooh, he's so smart! Smarter than you, probably."

"Gee, thanks, Kim." She took back her hand.

"Did you call mama?"

"No..."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want this to be... a thing."

"Huh?"

"I just don't want to make a big deal of it."

"What are you talkin' about? It _is_ a big deal, 'Manda," Kim insisted.

Amanda sipped her coffee.

Rather ironically, Kim warned her, "don't do this. Don't be a crazy person."

* * *

Amanda sat down in Dr. Peter Lindstrom's office that afternoon, trying to make herself comfortable. Left hand resting on the arm of the chair, she saw Dr. Lindstrom's eye go to her ring as he sat across from her. He raised a curious brow and for some reason, Amanda's first impulse was to twitch the knuckle of her middle finger so the diamond rolled underneath her palm, leaving only the thin gold band visible.

"What's that?" Dr. Lindstrom asked.

"Hm? Oh, nothing," Amanda replied dismissively. She felt a twinge of guilt, because it was hardly 'nothing,' but that answer had come out of her mouth anyway.

"It looks like an engagement ring."

She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. "It is."

He didn't say anything, just looked at her. Embarrassed, Amanda swiveled the stone back atop her finger.

"So, you're engaged. How do you feel about that?" the psychiatrist inquired in his gentle, probing way.

"I'm good. I mean, it's great," she responded lightly.

Dr. Lindstrom studied her.

"I mean, I never really thought I'd ever get married or anything," Amanda continued to fill the silence.

"No?"

"No."

"So... do you want to?"

"Get married?"

He nodded.

"Of course I do." Amanda chewed on the skin around her thumb nail anxiously. "Sonny's a good man. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"You've said that before."

"Because it's true. But..."

"But?"

"The marriage thing... the idea of it is nice..."

"But in actuality?"

"I'm less convinced."

"Who do you know who's married, Amanda?"

Her brow creased in thought at Dr. Lindstrom's question. "Uh... not Liv. Fin's divorced. Cragen wasn't, Munch tried three times, I think. Dodds isn't. Leah's not, Warner's not. Nick was married - but miserable. Declan... no. None of my girlfriends are. My sister... I guess she's got a boyfriend now but God knows how long that'll last. Like I've told you, my parents split up when I was a kid and my mama's been dating any man that comes along with a bank account since then..."

"And your father?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Who knows what he's been up to for the past twenty-something years. Marriage didn't seem to suit him so well when he was around, though."

"Is it possible that you have a somewhat skewed perception about what it means to be married to someone?" Dr. Lindstrom suggested.

"Huh?"

"In your line of work, everybody is _so_ committed to their jobs," Dr. Lindstrom explained. "In a way, they're sending a message that police work is the priority - managing a long-lasting, human connection presents as an inconvenience. It gets in the way. It's not the people with balanced lives that get the praise and recognition from their captains or One PP, right? It's the ones who give quite literally everything they have to NYPD - leaving room for nothing else."

"You've been very dedicated to your work as a detective, often times putting it above all else. Even above Jesse, on occasion." The doctor tilted his head to attempt to make eye contact with her. "Nobody in your field can model a healthy marriage for you, nobody in your personal life can, either. So the only example of marriage you've ever had was your parents', which was chaotic, sometimes violent, and ultimately ended."

Amanda shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her lips pressed together in a hard line. Dropping her gaze, she focused her eyes on the inside of her bare left forearm; the remnants of a faded white ink tattoo of her name just barely stood out against her skin. Years ago, she had gotten it as a reward for quitting gambling. Back then, she had no idea how many more times she'd have to try to really make a change.

Dr. Lindstrom went on, "despite these experiences, you've grown emotionally. Things have changed, haven't they? You left your old apartment, you and Sonny moved in together and now you share a child. You've been through some very challenging - and traumatizing - things. Even so, you've repaired your relationships at SVU, you're starting to trust Kim again, you haven't gambled in years and Jesse is starting pre-school..."

"Over the months that we've been meeting, I've come to notice that you really seem to like your new life, Amanda - but I also think that this kind of change frightens you. I think you're afraid to be a married woman with two children, and what that means for your role at SVU. Will people still take you seriously, will they still think you're dedicated to your job? Even worse: what if your marriage falls apart like your mother and father's? What if it plays out in front of your colleagues, like your gambling did? Like your sister's drama did?"

His words hung heavy between them, the only sound the steady ticking of his old, antique clock mounted on the wall.

"Well... yeah," Amanda eventually said, tone flat. Everything he was saying was true.

"What would happen if, for once in your life, you were present? Not thinking about the past or worrying about the future? Simply existing in the moment, appreciating it for what it is, not what it could or should be?"

"I don't think I know how to do that," she admitted quietly.

"I can teach you how to be more mindful. It takes practice, but I know you, Amanda, and when you want something, you go after it. To freely enjoy the life you have - I get the sense that's something you've been wanting for awhile."

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Amanda looked down at the ring glittering on her finger. "It is."

* * *

Fin and Liv met Sonny and Amanda for dinner at Forlini's that week. At a dark corner table, they all huddled around glasses of wine and plates of pasta.

"It's beautiful, Amanda," Liv remarked enthusiastically, admiring Amanda's new jewelry.

"Excuse me," Sonny said, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Oh, yeah, nice work, Carisi," Liv added as a playful afterthought.

"When you come back to SVU, we gotta make sure nobody robs you," Fin warned.

"Nobody's ripped the diamonds outta your ears yet," Amanda retorted with a smirk.

"What'd Jesse say? Does she get it?" Liv asked curiously over the rim of her wine glass.

"Not really. She thought we were already married," Amanda admitted sheepishly.

"How about your mom?"

Amanda stabbed a piece of pasta with her fork. "She's bein'... my mom," she explained carefully. "In her own... unique way, I think she's happy."

Liv gave her a knowing smile. "Remember when you told me you were _never_ having kids and _never_ getting married?"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Amanda mumbled with an abashed grin down at her plate.

"Carisi deserves some kinda reward for all of his efforts," Fin declared.

"Amanda _is_ the reward, Fin," Liv asserted.

Looking up, Amanda met Liv's eyes, which were kind and approving. She was flattered by her words, no - it was more than that. She felt loved.

* * *

"So... you're both police officers?"

Kim's boyfriend Connor looked nervously between Amanda and Sonny at the dinner table. He was a scrawny, lanky guy with curly brown hair and freckles sprinkled across his nose - the exact opposite of any man Kim had ever set her sights on before. Still, her younger sister gazed at him adoringly from her seat beside him, like each word out of his mouth was impossibly riveting. They had all only been together that night for around a half an hour, so Amanda was still quietly assessing whether Connor was really as innocently nerdy as he appeared - or if something sinister lurked underneath.

"Yep," Sonny answered him before adding mischievously, "why, you gotta warrant?"

"What? No," Connor sputtered.

"He's kiddin', aren't you, Sonny?" Kim said quickly, giving Connor's hand a comforting pat.

"Of course I'm kiddin'," Sonny assured them.

Amanda adjusted Luca in her arms, feeding him from a bottle as her eyes flitted around the table. Jesse fidgeted in the chair next to her, picking up pieces of chicken from her dish with her fingers when she thought her mother wasn't looking.

"They work in _sex crimes,_ " Kim explained to her boyfriend provocatively.

Connor cringed. "That sounds... grim."

"Eh, better than workin' with dead people," Sonny replied easily. "What d'you do?"

"Me? I'm a middle school math teacher," Connor answered.

"That was always your best subject, Kim," Amanda offered in an attempt to be positive.

Her sister beamed. "Connor's gonna help me apply to college."

"Oh?" Amanda raised an eyebrow.

"Kim's very smart. She could really go places," Connor insisted.

 _If only you knew the places she's already been..._ Amanda thought. Instead of voicing her skepticism, however, she chose to simply smile and hope for the best.

* * *

On a warm Sunday evening, Amanda helped Sonny's mother wash the dinner dishes. Alone in the kitchen, she dried plates and bowls, piling them neatly as Mrs. Carisi scrubbed. Upstairs in their Staten Island home, Sonny settled Jesse into Gina's room and Luca into Teresa's - he would do anything to avoid cleaning. They had spent the entire day with his family, but sometimes it was easier to stay the night than pack everybody back into the car and drive back to the city, so every now and then they made themselves comfortable on the second floor.

"I was thinking... Dom and I, we'd really love to throw you two an engagement party," Mrs. Carisi told her, breaking the comfortable silence.

"That's really sweet, but you don't have to..." Amanda said meekly.

"We insist. You can invite your family and friends from Atlanta, of course. I still haven't met your mother and we're going to have to start planning this wedding soon."

She tried not to outwardly cringe at the image of Beth Anne Rollins interacting with these kind, well-intentioned people. "Yeah..."

"Have you given any thought to where you wanna get married?"

Amanda had to admit, she _had_ thought about it - even lurked websites on her phone when the baby was asleep and she was alone. It was already overwhelming. She was hardly one for pomp and circumstance, but that probably wouldn't surprise anybody.

"I dunno... outside, I think. That'd be nice," she replied, setting a platter down carefully. "Some place like the Botanical Gardens, y'know? It's beautiful there. Quiet, lots of flowers, not too far away."

"Oh, in the Bronx? That place _is_ beautiful. We should look at it!" Mrs. Carisi remarked enthusiastically.

Her eyes widened. "It's way too expensive. There's no way we can afford that and I'd never take a dime from my mother. She and I don't see eye-to-eye on... well, on anything, really." She added another plate to the stack. "I'm sure something similar exists, right? We'll figure it out."

Mrs. Carisi shut the faucet off and wiped her palms on a dishtowel. She turned to Amanda and grabbed the younger woman's hands before they could reach for anything else. Meeting Amanda's eyes, she smiled.

"If one of my daughters wanted to get married on the moon, I'd make it happen," Mrs. Carisi told her earnestly. She squeezed Amanda's fingers. "You tell us what you want, and you'll have it."

The sincerity in her tone and the hopefulness on her face made Amanda's breath catch in her chest. Sonny's mother was the epitome of selfless. Her heart was so full already, but somehow she had made room inside for Amanda, too. Neither her mother nor her father had ever been consistently capable of showing either of their children that they were cared for or supported, always too focused on managing their own unhealthy agendas. Beth Anne Rollins was notorious for doing something for her daughters just to remind them that they owed her - they were never parent and child, they were equals, and nothing was free. Now in her thirties, Amanda still found herself relishing in the novelty that was somebody else wanting to do for her - nothing expected in return, just because it brought them joy.

"Thank you. That really means a lot," Amanda managed quietly, the intensity of her emotions catching her off guard.

Sonny's mother released her hands and hugged her tightly instead. "Go on upstairs, I'll finish puttin' this stuff away."

"Y'sure?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure. Go on."

With a grateful smile, Amanda made her way to the second floor. She poked her head into the first bedroom on the left, Jesse sleeping soundly in Gina's old bed, exhausted from hours of playing in the yard and a big dinner. Next she peered into Teresa's, which over the past few months had come to store more and more baby stuff - including the crib Luca was now asleep in. Hovering in the doorway, Amanda listened to his quiet little snoring noises as he dreamed beneath an animal-themed mobile until she was confident he was content.

The next room was Sonny's. She walked in to find him stretched out on the bed, a forearm flung over his eyes like he was sleeping. When the door clicked closed behind her, he peered out at her cautiously.

"Don't worry, everything's clean, you won't be asked to do anything," she assured him crassly, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, good," he sighed childishly, letting his arm flop down to his side.

Amanda walked over to the big oak desk, which had clearly been there since Sonny was a kid. Now it was topped with framed photographs – most of them featuring Sonny. She began to take off her earrings, setting them delicately on the perfectly polished surface. "I always forget this place is like a shrine dedicated to you," she mumbled sarcastically, eyeing the pictures.

"I can't help it if I'm the favorite," Sonny retorted smugly.

She gave a little snort of laughter before her gaze narrowed on a particular photo: a teenage Sonny standing rigidly with a pretty, blonde-haired girl, both of them dressed up for what had to be a formal dance. It was the most 1980's thing she had ever laid eyes on. Picking it up, she turned it to show Sonny and asked him, "who is this babe? And I don't mean you."

He squinted at the image. "Courtney Capella."

"Was she your _girlfriend?_ "

"Yes, she was my girlfriend."

"I can't believe I never noticed this one before. How old were you?"

"I think we were both fifteen there."

"Did you _looove_ her?" she simpered immaturely, setting the frame back down, eyebrows raised in delight.

"God, you're obnoxious."

Amanda gave a dramatic gasp, pressing her palm to her chest. "Did you have sex with her in here?"

"Amanda."

Eyes bright with amusement, she sat on the edge of the bed. "You did, didn't you?" she said, tone mockingly accusatory.

"I mean, maybe…" he replied vaguely with a little shrug.

Her eyes widened further still. "Did you have sex _for the first time ever_ in here?"

"Where else would we do it?"

"I don't know, a car or a beach or something. Something more… Staten Island."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

She ignored him; she thought she was hilarious. "Was it good?"

"It was the most awkward three minutes of my life."

"Really? I feel like I could definitely think of some other moments when you were pretty awkward-"

Amanda was interrupted by a pillow being hurled at her head. She gave a yelp of laughter as it collided with her, unsuccessfully swatting it away with her arms. She collapsed onto her back on the mattress and looked over at him with an innocent smile. "I'm just sayin'..."

"Yeah, whatever, Rollins," Sonny scoffed, but he was grinning.

She let her head dangle slightly off the edge of the bed, hair hanging long toward the floor, eyes to the ceiling. It was an oddly comfortable position. "Are you still gonna call me that, after we get married?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Why, you don't want me to?"

"No, I want you to. We both can't be 'Carisi.' That'd be confusing."

"I guess I hadn't thought about it."

She toed off her shoes one at a time, both falling to the carpet below with a 'thud.' "Your mother wants to throw us an engagement party."

"I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah, she told me. I didn't know how you'd feel about it."

She gave him a sideways glance.

He moved so he was stretched out on his side, head propped up with his hand by hers. His free palm traveled lazily over the bare space between her shirt and the top of her jeans, skin on skin. "You don't like bein' the center of attention," he explained.

Amanda frowned, because it was sad but also sort of sweet that he knew her hang-ups. "More than anything I'm afraid my mother is gonna terrify your family," she admitted, still blinking up at the ceiling. "I mean, Kim can be weird, but she's calmed down a lot. And my other relatives from Atlanta can at least pretend to be half-normal. But mama..."

"We'll just make sure she doesn't drink too much."

"That'll be a full-time job."

"She could prove you wrong. Sometimes she's okay."

"Sometimes she is, yeah." Amanda chewed at a hang nail. "I want to do it, though. Have the party. It's important to your parents."

"You sure?" He sounded surprised and that made her want to follow through with it even more.

"I'm sure."


	27. Chapter 27

**AN:** All sortsa stuff happening here! Some of it is NSFW (you've been warned). ;-) If there is any particular kind of scene you want to see leading up to the big day, let me know! I can try to write it in along the way. Expect a little longer wait between chapters, though!

* * *

Sometimes when Sonny worked strange hours, Amanda was able to meet up with him on his break. On a warm September evening, Amanda sat at a corner table beneath the stained glass ceiling at Veniero's bakery. Dressed simply in a white t-shirt, jeans and her old Converse, she ordered a piece of tiramisu while she waited.

"Hey, sorry I took forever." She heard Sonny before she saw him. He came rushing over to the table in a gray three-piece suit, gun on his hip and badge clipped lopsided on his vest.

"Hi." She tilted her head upward to kiss him before he sat across from her. "I ordered cake."

Sonny shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it on the back of his chair. "Good. I could use some."

"Tough night?"

"It's been a nightmare. We caught a case with this foster family, they had a fire in their apartment and FDNY figured out they had _eight kids_ in this crappy 2-bedroom. Eight! Then one of the older ones started spoutin' off about how sometimes dad brings his friends over and... _y'know._.. and all of a sudden the squad is filled with screamin' parents, eight wild kids, a Social Services worker who looks like she barely graduated an hour ago..."

Amanda cringed. "Let's not talk shop then, hm?" she suggested. All too often they both considered cases appropriate casual conversation. It was a hard habit to break; she definitely did it more often than Sonny.

"Okay," Sonny agreed. "How's your day?"

A waitress appeared to set plate of tiramisu between them and they both moved to pick up their respective forks.

"Mm, you know. Coloring, napping, screaming, cryin'... the usual," Amanda responded dryly, swiping at the rich layer of frosting before licking it off her utensil. "But I've been thinkin'."

Sonny was momentarily completely focused on the tiramisu; by now she had become accustomed to his distractingly deep appreciation of food. "Hm?" he said with his mouth full.

"Do you wanna be engaged for a year?" She snuck in a bite before he likely would inhale it all.

"Huh? I don't care. I'd get married in Vegas tomorrow if it wouldn't kill my parents," he told her in his unabashedly honest way.

She poked at the tiramisu again before saying thoughtfully, "it just seems like a long time, doesn't it?"

"It does, but if we do it soon... in a few months it's gonna be winter. You hate the winter," he reminded her, as if she could possibly forget.

"What about April? That's a nice month," Amanda suggested.

"Sure," Sonny agreed simply, easily.

Amanda smiled. The idea of a wedding overwhelmed her, but she was trying - slowly, carefully. She was never going to be the woman with stacks of bridal magazines and shiny Pintrest boards, or the type to lose sleep over color schemes or the quality of the calligraphy on invitations. Naturally private, the obnoxiously ostentatious trends in the wedding industry couldn't have suited her less; she felt anxious just clicking through the websites. Sonny knew all of that about her and he wanted to get married anyway, because even if his family was prepared to throw them a parade, Sonny's only concern was officially marking the beginning of their life together.

"I had another thought," Amanda continued, her smile faltering slightly as a less pleasant feeling washed over her.

"Yeah? You're on a roll," he quipped with a quirked eyebrow.

She moved a stray piece of tiramisu around on the plate, feeling almost embarrassed about what was on her mind. "It's more like a question, I guess."

Sonny leaned back in his chair, his lean frame relaxed, blue-gray eyes watching her from across the table. Sometimes when he looked at her, she swore she could actually see the gears turning in his head. "Okay..."

"It's not like... some kinda wedding rule where somebody's gotta walk you down the aisle, right?" she asked awkwardly.

"You're askin' _me_ about wedding etiquette?" he chuckled.

Amanda set her fork down, slumping back in her seat. "It's been on my mind."

Sonny's expression softened when he noticed the worry on her face; she wasn't trying to hide it. Since her confrontation with Leah months ago, Amanda had really been trying to make a concerted effort to be more transparent.

"Of course I know it's usually the dad. Which is obviously not an option..." She fiddled with her necklace, turning the little charm over between her fingers.

He leaned back over the table, moving the plate out of the way so he could rest his forearms down. "If you're askin' if it matters to me, you know it doesn't," he said slowly, quietly. "But if it matters to you... I can think of somebody who'd do it in a heartbeat."

"You can?"

"Yeah. Fin."

"Fin?"

"Yeah. I think it'd mean a lot to him if you asked."

"He's my partner."

"Exactly. But, c'mon. How many holidays did you spend with his family? He's always been there for you, watchin' your back. How many times has he bailed you outta stuff?"

She gave him a warning look.

"You know what I mean. You guys have been through a lot together. Am I right?"

Amanda thought of Fin, how he had always been so good at behaving both as her equal and an older, wiser confidant. He was hardly one for expressing emotion, but Amanda had always appreciated that; he was steady and level-headed. In a lot of ways, he was the closest thing to a paternal figure that Amanda had ever had. She trusted him, she felt safe with him. The truth was, she loved him. So Sonny _was_ right - but of course, she would never say such a thing out loud.

* * *

"What the hell do you know, blondie?"

Amanda's eyes narrowed across the battered metal table in the interrogation room. It was November second, her first day back at SVU after twelve weeks of maternity leave. There was no shortage of work: she picked up a case investigating a sexual assault in a co-ed rooming house in Hell's Kitchen. The suspect, a man by the name of John Doyle, was a forty year old mechanic with weathered, tan skin and scruffy stubble that extended from his jaw down his neck. His hands were rough and dirty from manual labor and intermittent homelessness. He was fast, too - Amanda knew it because he had made her chase him six blocks before she finally tackled him outside of a 7-11.

"Your fingerprints are all over that knife. You might as well have autographed it. Did you really think you could just throw it in the trash and we wouldn't go lookin'?" Amanda asked skeptically.

"Of course my prints are on it, it's a roomin' house. We all share that shit," John replied gruffly.

"How cozy," she remarked sarcastically. "Except - _only_ your prints are on it."

"Whatever, I used it last."

"Yeah, to try to kill Sonja."

"No-"

"Cut the crap, okay?" Amanda stood up, palms pressed into the table as she leaned in. "You broke into Sonya Clark's room, you raped her, you tried to slit her throat but she was too fast for you - she got away. While you were panicking and trying to ditch your knife, she ran straight to SVU. Despite your extensive interactions with the law, they've clearly taught you nothing: you were dumb enough to toss your weapon in a dumpster - right underneath Sonja's window. "

"That bitch had it comin'," John finally blurted, growing agitated. "I sold her some good shit, some real good coke, and she thought she could get away without payin' me for it. Ain't nothin' in this world that's free."

Amanda glared at him, her expression unflinching. He had just done her job for her.

"Just take me to Riker's already, will you?" he shouted, squirming in his chair like he was trying to escape Amanda's piercing gaze.

She smiled. "It'd be a pleasure."

Leaving the interrogation room wearing a smirk, Amanda's shoulders moved in a barely-perceptible shimmy. _Still got it._

* * *

Bin 5 was a small but surprisingly chic Italian restaurant in Staten Island, and on a crisp Friday night in November, it was packed tight with Carisis, Rollins', and everybody in between. Amanda had done almost nothing to arrange this party: Sonny's mother had simply requested a list of people she wanted to invite and took over from there. Amanda preferred it that way, because she wasn't much of an event planner. While it made her happy to see her friends and relatives mingling with Sonny's, at first all she could think about was her mother. She was so anxious she couldn't eat, bracing herself for a disaster, eyes and ears constantly straining in an attempt to get ahead of the impending drama.

Amanda quickly came to realize that she hadn't given Beth Anne's acting skills enough credit: she played the part of doting mother well for an audience. She fawned over Sonny's mother, was interested in his father, complimented each sister's outfit. She drank but surprisingly, she wasn't the most intoxicated person in the room - whereas Sonny's college buddies became more boisterous by the hour. Fin and Liv weren't fooled, of course, and neither were a few of Amanda's old friends from Loganville; they had all seen Beth Anne's true colors. Kim remained oblivious: she loved her mother as blindly as Amanda did their father. At this point, Beth Anne's facade was a relief to Amanda: she didn't want anything compromising all of Mrs. Carisi's efforts.

That night Amanda wore a form-fitting, mid-length dress in navy, with a thick halter top neckline and a princess seamed bodice. She balanced on a pair of nude pumps that made her just as tall as Sonny and her hair was pinned half-up, blonde tresses in long, loose waves. _Thank God you're dressed like a woman and not a police officer for once, Amanda,_ her mother had sighed over her pre-party martini, as if a person could not be both feminine and a cop. _But would it have killed you to get a manicure?_ As difficult as it was for Beth Anne to understand, Amanda had not chosen her outfit to please her. _She_ liked it. No, she didn't have a job where she could dress up, but that didn't mean Amanda didn't appreciate pretty clothes.

Each time a new guest arrived at the restaurant that evening, Amanda felt increasingly grateful. The room was filled with relatives, colleagues, friends from college who had flown in from four separate places just to congratulate her in person - all of them enthusiastic and excited. When Captain Cragen and his girlfriend appeared, Amanda almost cried, still so thankful that he had given her the chance to save her career all those years ago, that he wanted to be a part of her better, healthier life outside of the precinct. The company she was surrounded by that night made her think: all those moments when she had felt so alone in New York City, she really wasn't alone at all. She had isolated herself from all of the people who would show up if she had simply _asked them to._ She was cared for, she was appreciated, she had a lot to offer and deserved good, too. Thank God for Sonny, who had taught Amanda that there was no greater gift than to love and to be loved in return.

A cocktail consisting of bourbon, grapefruit and honey hung from Amanda's unmanicured hand; she had lost track of how many she had had before it. One thing was for certain: she was drunk after a long evening of socializing, cheeks flushed, blue eyes glassy. The crowd had gradually thinned given the very late hour; Beth Anne and Sonny's parents had left over an hour ago, all of them happy, buzzed and exhausted. Amanda felt like she could finally breathe knowing that her mother hadn't caused a scene, that she had done her best impression of a normal person for five entire hours. She had no idea what kind of mood she would find her in tomorrow when they returned to the city; Beth Anne was staying at their apartment for the night with Audrey, Luca and Jesse, while Amanda and Sonny would stay at his parents'.

Standing alone, Amanda leaned forward against the bar top, boldly plucking a cherry from the tray of fruit intended for cocktails. Mouth around the sticky-sweet maraschino, she tugged the stem off and set it on a napkin before going for another one. She felt the warmth of somebody standing close behind her and she twirled around atop her heels: it was Sonny, empty glass in hand, face pink from alcohol and the cold. He had been saying a long-winded goodbye to his best friend from college, Joe, who had been one of the last lingering guests. Amanda realized that she had been so nervous and distracted all night that she hadn't properly studied Sonny: he looked handsome in a white and navy checked dress shirt beneath an open blazer, jeans dark and tailored, hair swept back. He was smiling at her, dimples standing out on his cheeks.

"Don't you know better than to sneak up on a detective?" Amanda asked him coyly, chewing playfully on the end of a cherry stem.

"None of 'em look that good from behind," Sonny retorted, smile melting into a smirk. He always sounded his most Staten Island when he drank. His brow suddenly furrowed, eyes flitting between Amanda and the bar. "D'you know how many people touch that fruit? Like, pretty much everybody. That's why I hate lemon in my water. Might as well just drink outta a petri dish..."

Looking both amused and bewildered, Amanda shook her head. "You need help."

"I'm just sayin'. I think about these things."

"Well, relax, the alcohol kills all the germs. Is everybody gone?"

He eyed her skeptically before answering, "yep. Every last one of 'em." He leaned over to set his glass on the bar. "You ready to get outta here?"

Amanda knocked back the rest of her drink in one, big sip before nodding. Despite how much fun she had had, she was now looking forward to getting out of the confines of her dress and heels.

It was a quick taxi ride back to the Carisi home, given how late it was. When they arrived, the pair clambered out of the car, Amanda trailing Sonny up the walkway to the front door, her heels punching the occasional hole in the grass between the stones. On the stoop, she pressed up behind him. Cheek against his back, a playful hand slid into one of the front pockets of his jeans as she asked innocently, "do you have the keys?"

"'Course I have the keys. Other pocket," he murmured thickly, looking over his shoulder at her with mischief in his heavy-lidded eyes.

She shifted her weight from one heel to anther, body still flush with his, purposely rubbing up against him. "Well, hurry up, I'm cold." She was not cold, not with that much alcohol in her blood. She was provocative.

When the door opened, the house was dark and quiet, almost eerily so. Teetering on her shoes, she followed him inside to pass through the kitchen. Unexpectedly, Sonny turned around and caught her in a kiss, hard and sloppy, as they stood in the middle of the tiled floor. Surrounded by people all day and night, her attention constantly pulled in five different directions, it felt good to have him to herself. Fingers hooked into his belt loops to pull him into her further; he tasted like whiskey and beer, but there was a lot of bourbon on her tongue, too. There was something exciting about making out like frenzied teenagers, how their heated mouths met over and over as if they had been starved for it. Amanda felt his hands traveling down her back, palms squeezing her ass, prompting a giggle to escape her. Her teeth sunk down into his lower lip, tugging playfully before she deftly slid out of his grasp to dart toward the steps.

Amanda heard Sonny scrambling after her - and soon she felt him, too. He was grabbing at her from behind as she tried to frantically climb the stairs, both of their limbs jumbled and drunk, each of them letting out little breaths of strangled laughter. Amanda let one shoe fall here and the other there until she was on the second floor, her blessedly bare feet allowing her to run down the carpeted hallway toward Sonny's dim bedroom. He chased her in there but she stepped aside, lurking in a shadow, resulting in him skidding to a halt in the center of the room like he had just discovered how to use his legs. When he whirled around, she met his eyes and laughed.

Walking backward slowly, Amanda leaned her back into the door to shut it with a satisfying 'click.' Her palms pressed into the wood as she attempted to steady herself. She blinked Sonny's form into focus, chest rising and falling visibly from her brief sprint, the liquor in her veins making her woozy and warm. In the dark, Sonny took two long strides to close the space between them. In an instant, he was all over her, pressing her hard into the door, rough palms holding her face to kiss her hungrily. He slotted a leg between her thighs, pinning her in place. Amanda sharply pulled air into her lungs the moment he broke contact, then felt his mouth biting kisses against her neck, his breath hot against the skin there. When his lips found her ear, she let out something between a whimper and a gasp, her back arching instinctively.

"Shh. You gotta be quiet," Sonny murmured, sounding pleased with himself.

Each breathy word sent shivers down her spine and she wriggled against him, looking for more contact. "K," she managed.

"You look so fuckin' hot tonight, you know that?" he breathed approvingly.

Wearing a smug smirk, Amanda pushed his jacket off of his shoulders and let it crumple to floor. She felt his hands grapple with the hem of her dress, shoving it far enough up her thighs that he could slide underneath. There he encountered the barest scrap of lacy fabric, a feeble barrier atop what he was after. She rolled her hips forward at his touch, wordlessly encouraging him. When she felt his fingers slip against her, inside of her, a whine was forced from her throat at the sensation. Her eyes fluttered closed as he moved, his rhythm slow and lazy despite her obvious growing need, his mouth back at her neck. He toyed with her, a thumb barely grazing exactly where she was desperate to be touched, the brief contact causing her hips to stutter reflexively. "Mm... fuck," Amanda moaned quietly, somehow able to remember to keep her voice down despite how drunk and wanton she was.

Lost in her fervid desperation, she had no time to react when he suddenly spun her around, her front pressed against the door, her palms flat by her shoulders. Dizzy with surprise and excitement, Amanda didn't move even though her body ached for his. She couldn't do much at all - he was so close behind her, trapping her with his taller frame. Over her shoulder, even in the dark, she could see the shadow of intensity that had crossed his face, the way lust had sharpened his features. She heard the metal of his belt buckle, felt him pushing her dress up so it bunched up around her waist, all of his movements urgent. He yanked her thong down her thighs haphazardly and groped her ass in the greedy, covetous way that made her pulse pound. He was strong - stronger than her - and in moments like this she liked when he reminded her of that.

She couldn't help it: she cried out when he slid inside of her in one quick, smooth movement. Her body accepted him easily, willingly. Forehead leaned into the door and fingers gripping at the wood, she pressed eagerly back against him to take in his rapid thrusts and match his rhythm. Desire was coiled up tightly in the pit of her stomach, waiting to be sprung, but Sonny was in control. There was nothing leisurely or sweet about his movements - he was deliberate, fervent, after one thing.

"Shit, you feel so good," he growled. "I've been thinkin' about this all night."

His heated words made her blood feel like it was boiling and it was all she could do to stay upright. Her efforts weren't helped by her need to touch herself, anxious to get to the point where she was over the edge rather than just pushing up against it. "C'mon, baby, just like that..." she whispered, coaxing him, voice hoarse and strained. She was a taut arch as she moved her right hand so she could stroke herself, feeling him moving inside of her and waiting for that moment, the one that would thunder through her like the best kind of storm. It didn't take long: his name caught in her throat when the tension she had been holding finally dissipated, electricity rolling through her, lights exploding behind her eyes.

If Sonny hadn't been holding her up, Amanda's knees would have buckled as she shuddered against him. But he wasn't letting her go: his grip was hard on her hips, intent on keeping her right where wanted her until he was through. When she heard the pitch of his breathing change, she knew he was close; soon he was groaning unintelligible curses, both his pace and power steadily increasing until he came with one final, forceful thrust. The two of them were then left panting and unmoving against his bedroom door for what felt like forever and no time at all.

When their bodies eventually separated, everything was fuzzy. The combination of afterglow and alcohol made Amanda's limbs feel like jello and her insides were just as mushy. Turning around, she stepped out of the underwear around her ankles, very obviously unbalanced. She flung her arms straight up in the air and asked Sonny, "can you...?" There was no way in hell she was getting out of that dress without assistance.

"Yeah, alright, c'mon," he agreed. He pulled the fabric up over Amanda's head until it was completely off with one final tug. She gave a giggle as she stumbled a bit, Sonny catching her by the forearm before she had a chance to fall. He kissed her, swollen lips meeting gently, and gave her ass a playful swat. "Get in bed."

She didn't need to be told twice. The cold sheets felt heavenly against her hot, bare skin and she burrowed beneath them while Sonny got undressed. She watched him up until the moment he slid his body next to hers and slumped back against the headboard. She curled her limbs around his frame, head between his chest and shoulder.

"That was fun," Sonny observed.

She couldn't stay still, simultaneously energized and exhausted by their romp. Sitting up, she maneuvered herself to straddle hips, resting back on her haunches. She gazed down at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Which part?"

"Well, the last part in particular. But, all of it," he explained with a small but wicked smile.

Amanda sloppily twisted her hair up and away from her neck to expose the warm skin there to the air. "Mhm," she agreed, letting her tresses go. She felt his hands wandering over her naked form, exploratory and soothing, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it. Even the darkness swayed and wobbled, but in an oddly pleasant way.

"I love you so much, y'know. I do, I really do, 'Manda," he babbled, his words jumbled together from booze.

She blinked him back into focus. "'Cause we just banged and I'm naked?" she slurred playfully, poking at his bare abdomen with two fingers.

He laughed. "For other reasons, too."

"Feel free to list them. Go 'head, I'll wait," she sighed dramatically, fluttering her dark eyelashes.

Sonny loved an assignment. "You're hot. Like, really hot. You're smart. You act like I'm a nerd but you're like, Hermione Granger, raisin' your hand all the time, tryin' to be perfect and get the right answer-"

"What!" she sputtered, eyes wide with amusement at his Harry Potter reference.

"It's true. What else... you don't let anybody fuck with you. Yeah. You're funny. You always make me laugh. You're an amazin' mother. You're strong. I'm not gonna lie - I almost threw up when Luca was born. That shit is seriously gross but you were a real champ. Uh... you're a fast runner, a good shot..."

Amanda was laughing now, her whole body shaking with the force of it, eyes welling up. The drunken lilt in his voice was making Sonny's already ridiculous list all the more hilarious. "Okay, okay, enough. I'm convinced," she choked breathlessly. She leaned over and kissed him sloppily, still giggling against his lips. She could no longer tell if she was drunk from bourbon or from the love she had for the man beneath her, but either way, she was happy.


	28. Chapter 28

Hungover but happy, Amanda and Sonny left Staten Island the morning after the party. Back in Long Island City, they returned to their apartment to an inconsolable Jesse. She wasn't throwing one of her famous tantrums, she was crying and sniffling, hiccuping between shaky breaths, clearly wanting attention but not saying why. When she immediately attached herself to Amanda's leg upon her walking through the door, Amanda knew something was up. Jesse had always been affectionate, but she had also grown to be fiercely independent and stubborn - much like her mother.

"She's been like this all morning, ever since your mother left," Audrey explained, handing a content Luca to Sonny's waiting arms. Frannie hovered excitedly at their feet. "Everything was great till then, but she won't tell me what's wrong."

"That's weird..." Amanda's brows knitted together as she stroked Jesse's hair. She was glad she had swallowed three Advil and that they had stopped for a giant, greasy breakfast on their drive back, because there was no way she could have managed a hysterical toddler with a headache and the spins. "I really appreciate you stayin', though, Aud," she added sincerely.

"Anytime, you know that. I'll see you Monday." Audrey smiled. She gave Luca a loving pat on the head before calling to Jesse, coat gathered in her arms, "cheer up, Jesse!"

"Hey, what's all the cryin' for?" Amanda asked her daughter gently once Audrey had left. She bent down and picked the toddler up, who promptly wrapped her legs around her mother's waist and arms around her neck, wet face buried in the space there. "What's wrong?"

She felt Jesse shake her head. Exchanging confused glances with Sonny, Amanda suggested to the little girl, "let's go sit in your room, huh?" Without waiting for an answer, she carried Jesse to her bedroom, shut the door and sat on the bed, her daughter curled up in her lap. Amanda smoothed Jesse's hair away from her face and frowned. "What's wrong, baby?" she asked her again.

Jesse sniffled.

"You feel okay?"

She nodded.

"You miss your mama?"

Again, she nodded.

"Well, hey, I'm back now," Amanda said cheerfully, hoping in vain that her mere presence would solve everything.

Jesse squirmed, pressing closer into her mother's chest. Little fingers reached up and played with Amanda's necklace, moving the charm back and forth on the chain. Eventually, she spoke: "Gramma said..." She didn't manage to complete her sentence before she was dissolving into tears again.

"What? Grandma said what?" Amanda urged her, suddenly nervous.

"Gramma said... dad's not my dad..."

The little girl's words hit Amanda like a ton of bricks; she felt the color drain from her face. "What?" Amanda asked sharply, her entire body stiffening in panic and rising anger. "What did she say to you?"

"She said... my dad's not here," Jesse replied meekly, clearly afraid that the tone of her mother's voice meant she was in trouble.

"Jesse, look at me," Amanda demanded anxiously, shifting the little girl's weight on her lap so their gazes could meet.

Jesse obediently blinked her eyes up at her mother.

"Who pushes you the highest on the swings?" Amanda asked.

"Daddy." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand sloppily.

"Who makes you Mickey Mouse pancakes?"

" _Minnie Mouse,_ " Jesse corrected her. "Daddy."

"And who always helps you with your puzzles?"

"Daddy."

Amanda squeezed her arm and ordered firmly, "don't listen to your grandma. Not a word. Y'hear me?"

"Okay."

"I gotta do something fast, but we'll take Frannie for a walk after. Just you and me, okay?"

Jesse nodded.

With a kiss planted on her head, Amanda left her daughter's room and stalked immediately into her own bedroom without stopping to explain anything to Sonny. She shut the door, found the furthest corner, and pulled her phone from her back pocket. She dialed Beth Anne Rollins' number, lips pressed into a hard line as it rang.

"Hi." Her mother's relaxed voice floated over the speaker.

"What the hell is your problem?" Amanda blurted.

"Well, darlin', I had to head to the airport, I'm sorry I couldn't stay to see-"

"Did you tell Jesse that Sonny isn't her father?"

"Oh, that. I did. I told you I wanted to, last time I was in town. We had a little chat this morning. She deserves to know the truth-"

"And I told you not to! She's three and a half, mama!" she exclaimed, skin hot with anger and heart pounding against her ribs. "And she's my kid, not yours. I decide what she knows or doesn't!"

"You're lyin' to her," Beth Anne reasoned simply.

"I'm not!"

"I did both of you a favor. You're so focused on your own life you're not givin' any thought to how it's effecting Jesse-"

"I-"

"And as usual, it's incredibly selfish of you, Amanda."

" _You're_ calling _me_ selfish?"

Beth Anne's tone turned low and threatening. "I don't know what kind of fantasy land you're living in lately, but you have always put yourself before everybody else and nothing has changed since you've had children. Your work, your gamblin', your relationships, if you can even call them that - it all comes before family. You may have Sonny's relatives fooled, but I'm not buyin' this housewife bit. Everything _always_ comes back to _Amanda_ , it's just a matter of time. So when all of this goes to hell, when you mess it all up by bein' yourself, don't come cryin' to me. Let the Carisis fall all over you, thinkin' you're something special. You and I both know where you came from."

The line went dead, leaving Amanda pressing the phone tight to her ear, speechless.

"Damnit!" Amanda impulsively hurled her phone across the room, watching it bounce against the wood floor with the force of her anger. It didn't feel as good as she thought it would. She covered her mouth with her hand as she pulled in uneven breaths through her nose, trying to regain her composure. Her mother's words stung - more than that, they struck the most vulnerable parts of her, the worries she harbored in the dark that she had barely touched upon in therapy. She had been trying so hard to claw her way out of that sort of doubt, that kind of negativity, but Beth Anne was a master at getting under her eldest daughter's skin. The phone call had left Amanda uneasy and uncertain, which was likely her mother's goal. _When you mess it all up by being yourself..._

The door creaked open and Sonny appeared, still carrying Luca. "Well, what was that all about?"

She dropped her hand from her face and hurried across the room to pick up her phone, which had been saved from damage by it's rubberized case. "Oh, Jesse just, she was just missing us. And she's overtired," Amanda offered as an explanation.

Sonny looked skeptical. "What's your phone doin' on the floor?"

"It fell outta my pocket."

* * *

 _"Amanda, this is Dr. Lindstrom. I'm calling because you missed our appointment last week. I'm hoping I'll see you tomorrow, and that everything is alright..."_

She deleted the message before it was over. On to the next one:

 _"Amanda!"_ It was Mrs. Carisi's familiar, excited voice. _"I was just thinkin', maybe this weekend you, me and Sonny can all head down to the Gardens and take a look? Dom'll watch the kids. I know Gina would love to come, too, she loves this kind of-"_

Ugh, she couldn't stomach her unbridled enthusiasm right now. Delete.

 _"'Manda, guess what? I just enrolled in a literature class at SUNY! Can you believe it? The Lord has been-"_

Nope. Sorry, Kim. Delete.

Amanda set her phone on her desk. She had been ignoring most calls lately; everybody had been getting on her nerves. She felt a twinge of guilt knowing that they all meant well, but it felt like her mother had siphoned all the energy right out of her.

"Rollins, you want a ride home?" Fin asked her, hovering over her with his coat on and keys out.

Amanda looked up. It was late: except for the two detectives, only a couple of uniformed officers remained in the squad room. "Yeah, thanks."

Bracing themselves against the chill in the fall air, they walked to Fin's car. She sat in the front seat, head leaned against the cool glass of the window, hands in the pockets of her coat.

"You've been quiet the last week," Fin observed.

"Oh. Have I?"

"Yeah. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's good."

"Things goin' okay with Carisi? The kids?"

"Yeah."

"Frannie?" he tried.

"Everything's perfect, Fin." She closed her eyes and thought, _that's the problem._

* * *

"My ma said she called you the other day." Sonny was leaned back against the sink, hands in the pockets of his slacks. His jacket was off but he still hadn't changed from work, which always amazed Amanda. She couldn't get out of her nice clothes fast enough once the day was done.

Amanda's back was to him as she knelt on the floor. She leaned over the edge of the bath, running warm, soapy water over Luca's little limbs and torso. The three-month-old sat in his bright blue whale-shaped tub, specially designed for babies who couldn't sit up on their own yet. Amanda learned that if she timed the bath just right, it was a comforting, lavender-scented evening routine that made the child's eyelids grow heavy.

"Oh?" she replied, doing her best to sound surprised.

"Yeah. She wanted to go look at some place with us," Sonny explained.

"The Botanical Gardens," Amanda informed him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I knew it had somethin' to do with flowers."

"I didn't see that she called," she lied.

"Oh, well. You wanna go?"

She inspected the tiniest bump atop Luca's head, which was nothing at all but served as a sufficient distraction. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"I just..." Once the baby was rinsed, she drained the water and began to quickly dry Luca off before she wrapped him up in a towel that had playful little dog ears atop the hood. It still made her smile every time he was swaddled in it, sometimes she even got sort of sad thinking about the day he grew to be too big for it. For now, it enveloped him and then some. Cradling the baby in her arms, Amanda carefully stood up. She looked over her shoulder as Sonny followed her into their room. "It's expensive."

"I thought my parents told you not to worry about that stuff," Sonny reminded her cavalierly.

"'That stuff?'" she repeated, using one free hand to pluck an outfit for Luca out of the pile of clean laundry she had yet to fold. "You mean money."

"Yeah, money."

"It's a pretty big detail."

"You know my mother. She wants to make you happy."

 _Isn't that good for you, Carisi. You have a mom who isn't a complete psycho,_ she thought bitterly as she went through the motions of getting Luca ready for bed.

"'Manda..." Sonny said after a few minutes of quiet. She heard the bedroom door click shut. "You okay?"

"Huh? Why wouldn't I be okay?" Amanda responded a bit too quickly.

"You seem kinda... off lately," he told her carefully.

She did the snaps on Luca's onesie, the soft white fabric covered in tiny, colorful spaceships. His big, steel blue eyes blinked up at her - they were almost an exact match for his father's. She lifted the baby up, holding him against her side. He was soft and warm and smelled sweet. "I'm just tired, Sonny. It's hard between the baby and Jesse and bein' back at SVU..."

Her half-truth must have been convincing, because Sonny frowned slightly. A palm rested at the small of her back and he kissed the side of her head. "Yeah, I know, you've been workin' really hard," he murmured into her hair.

"Yeah..."

Sonny stuck a finger out for Luca to wrap his tiny ones around reflexively. She loved to watch them together, Sonny lean and larger than life, Luca chubby yet teeny tiny. "I just think..." he said slowly. "It'd be a nice thing to do."

"I'll call her tomorrow morning, okay?" Amanda promised him, despite the growing heaviness in her chest.

* * *

"This place is _ah-mazing!_ " Gina Carisi proclaimed, spinning around beneath a wrought iron arch covered in bright green vines of ivy. She whined in conclusion, "ugh, I wanna get married."

Sonny's sister was beautiful, tall with long, thick blonde hair and bright blue eyes. If Paris Hilton had been from Staten Island, she would have been Gina Carisi: everything about her was over-the-top and shiny, from her hot pink nails to her rhinestone-studded phone case. Over the years Amanda had developed an affection for her despite all of their glaring differences. Gina was fun-loving and very, very blunt. She thought she deserved the best of everything and Amanda had to admire her confidence and tenacity.

"What happened to that stock broker you were seein'?" Sonny asked his sister, huddled in his navy blue pea coat, the collar turned up.

"Oh, Jeff? He was doin' coke. Who knew?" Gina explained lightly, manicured fingers grazing the greenery. "Shame, 'cause he was loaded. He kept disappearin', though, which I thought was kinda suspicious. I wonder if he was in jail. Hey, could you look him up?"

"No," Sonny answered flatly.

"Gina, please. This isn't about you," Mrs. Carisi broke away from her enthusiastic conversation with the New York Botanical Gardens event planner to reprimand her oldest daughter.

Gina rolled her eyes before they lit up again, rounding on Amanda. "Amanda, what are you gonna wear? You've got an _amazin'_ body, you gotta show it off. Nothing with tulle, please, God," she babbled.

Amanda had to grin. How the hell did she get here, with these people? "I have no idea."

"Is anybody _besides me_ payin' attention?" Mrs. Carisi asked, turning around wearing the type of expression only a mother could. "Specifically, the people gettin' married?"

Obediently, they all shifted their focus back to the elegant-looking woman who had been showing them all around the property. As a group, they followed her into the big, stone building off of the patio they had been lingering on. "This is the Stone Mill," she explained. "It looks beautiful in the evening with low lighting, lots of candles, that sorta thing. So you could have the ceremony right outside where we were, and move in here for the reception!"

Amanda's arm was linked with Sonny's as they all gathered inside. Her eyes wandered around the space: the interior was rustic with big, wooden beams and exposed stone walls, with large farm house windows that overlooked the rolling Bronx river and the gardens surrounding it. The floor was made of dark wood and warm, golden light glowed from the ceiling. It was exactly like all the photos Amanda had seen online, exactly what had caught her attention amid the countless other venues vying for any willing bride's attention. It was simple, quaint and just special enough.

"Do you like it?" Sonny's mother asked her excitedly. "I think it's adorable."

"It's beautiful," Amanda breathed honestly, covetous fingers moving over the fine masonry that made up the wall they stood by.

"How many people are you thinking?" the event planner asked.

"Oh, probably two hundred," Mrs. Carisi answered as she ran a discerning finger over a spotless window sill.

Her mouth agape, Amanda looked over at Sonny, who appeared unfazed by what she considered to be a massive number of guests. Then again, he probably wasn't paying attention.

"We've probably got a hundred people just on our side to invite. Do you all do your own food?" his mother went on.

"Of course," the planner answered easily.

"Do you do Italian?"

"We could do whatever you'd like. Of course, we would have to set up a meeting between you and management to customize a menu."

"And the bar? The place'll be crawlin' with police officers and they like to drink, so-"

"Ma, please-" Sonny interjected sheepishly.

"We provide all of the alcohol," the event planner assured them.

Amanda was starting to sweat. _You may have Sonny's relatives fooled, but I'm not buyin' this housewife bit,_ her mother's nasty, critical voice rang in her head, louder than the people conversing excitedly in front of her. _Let the Carisis fall all over you, thinkin' you're something special. You and I both know where you came from._ And they were, in fact, falling all over her. Even if the Carisis were intense, it felt good to have people so invested in her happiness. Suddenly, Amanda wasn't sure if she was all that deserving. She gave Sonny's arm a tug. "I'll be right back."

She skittered away unnoticed by the others before Sonny could ask her any questions. Back out on the patio, Amanda pulled cold air into her lungs and exhaled, her breath exiting her body in a little cloud. It was so quiet there, the only sound the river bubbling over stones near by. She kept her bare hands shoved in the pockets of her coat as she stared blankly out into the scenery. She longed to be like Gina, unabashedly excited, eyes glittering at all the potential the venue held because she knew she was worth it.

After a few minutes, she heard Sonny's voice behind her. "'Manda? Come back inside, I'm never gonna remember any of this shit."

She turned around and told him simply, "I needed air."

Sonny studied her thoughtfully for a moment. "You wanna take a little walk?"

Yes, she did. She nodded.

He offered his arm and Amanda took it, tucking herself close against his side as they began to travel down a winding path away from the Stone Mill. Her eyes flitted around the orange and red foliage and bright flowers, many standing lush and colorful even against the fall chill. The branches of big trees bent over the walk way, creating a natural awning. The wind rustled the drying leaves, a sound Amanda rarely heard in Manhattan, not even in Central Park.

"So," Sonny broke their comfortable silence. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"Whatever's been botherin' you."

"Nothing's bothering me. I told you, I'm just tired."

Sonny didn't reply. He kept his gaze straight ahead and she could see that his eyebrows were raised with his skepticism. After a moment, he asked curiously, "you like it here?"

"It's beautiful," Amanda answered truthfully. "Do you?"

"It's nice. Did you know it's been around since 1891? There's over seven million types of plants here," he remarked.

She quirked a brow. "Did you research this?"

"Yeah, I did."

Of course he did, because Sonny approached everything with unwavering enthusiasm and interest. Amanda watched little birds hop around in front of them, fluttering away when their footsteps came too close. "Can we sit for a minute?"

"Yeah, okay."

They sat on a bench by a small bridge. She kept her arm linked with Sonny's; he was warm. In silence, she watched the swaying of branches and the scattered, distant forms of people touring the gardens. She wondered who they were, what they were there for. Sometimes at work if she was doing surveillance or undercover, she would make stories up about strangers on the street, fabricating their situations and experiences against the sights and sounds of the city.

"My mother took it upon herself to talk to Jesse," Amanda finally admitted.

"'Bout what?" Sonny asked, looking over at her.

She chewed the inside of her lower lip. "About you. That you aren't her father."

He rolled his eyes and his gaze flitted away from her, jaw clenched. "She really is a peach." His sarcasm was sharp and she wondered if he felt hurt.

"I confronted her about it and... she said some pretty nasty stuff to me."

"Like what?"

"Tellin' me how selfish I am, how I don't care about my kids, only about what I want. How one day you and your family are gonna figure out I'm not good enough..."

Sonny turned to face her, shaking his head in disbelief. "Every time you see or talk to her she spins you upside down. Why don't you just cut her outta your life?"

He said it like it was easy and that annoyed her. "You don't get it, Sonny. You've got your parents, all your sisters and your cousins, aunts and uncles, people who aren't even related to you who you consider family... I've got my mom and Kim and couple of cousins. If I push mama away any farther than I already have, I promise you I'll lose Kim, too, and I've only just barely got her on the right track..."

He untangled their arms so he could grab both of her hands in both of his, squeezing them in earnest. "'Manda. How much stuff are you gonna let her take from you? You never got to be a kid. You had to clean up after Kim 'cause your mom was too busy bein' her friend - you're still doin' that. Your mom is gonna pick apart everything you've got because that's what miserable people do, they love company." He added quietly, gently, "you keep hopin' one day she's gonna act like a mother to you, but that day isn't gonna come."

Amanda bowed her head, gaze dropping down to their hands. She felt embarrassed. "It's stupid, y'know? I'm in my thirties, but I still wanna have parents. I still want people to be proud of me, to call me up and ask me how my week is going..."

"It's not stupid. I just... don't see your mother givin' any of that to you anytime soon."

Lifting her head, she met his eyes. "You're right."

Instead of smug satisfaction lighting up his features at the sound of his two favorite words, Sonny just looked sad.


	29. Chapter 29

The weather in Atlanta in November was pleasant: not too warm and not too cold. In a rented car, windows down, Amanda drove the thirty-six miles from Hartsfield-Jackson airport to Loganville, Georgia on a Friday night. When the tall, modern buildings transitioned to sprawling fields and dusty, tree-lined, roads, that's how she knew she was getting close. Loganville was a town frozen in time: the storefronts looked as if they hadn't changed since the 1980's, the houses awkward and pre-fabricated atop big, man-made lots. She was headed to Beth Anne Rollins' home, which wasn't really her home at all: she had inherited it from her mother when she passed away. It was much nicer than anything Amanda and Kim had ever lived in. For most of their lives, they had resided in an ugly, rectangular dwelling that could be put on the back of a flatbed truck and moved wherever the owner pleased. That could have been somewhat exciting, except that it never went anywhere.

Hickory Lane was a quiet, dead-end street. When she was a child, Amanda remembered racing Kim up and down the road until her legs were sore and her grandmother dragged them both inside with the promise of dessert. The older woman would watch the two girls when neither of their parents could; it was a welcomed reprieve from the chaos in the Rollins' home.

Amanda parked the car and sat in silence for a moment. This trip had been impulsive, but necessary. Her gut had brought her there. Luckily, Sonny understood that, and she thought of him at home with Luca, Jesse and Frannie and she smiled. It was the nudge she needed to make the short journey to the front door of the old colonial house and ring the bell.

After a minute, Beth Anne pulled open the door, appearing confused. "Amanda? What on earth are you doin' here?"

"Can I come in?" Amanda asked.

"Sure you can. Are you here for work?" her mother replied, swinging the door open further.

She stepped inside. Her mother had completely redecorated the place in her expensive, ostentatious way, leaving no indication that Amanda's grandmother had ever lived there. It was disheartening, but not surprising.

"Nope."

"Where is everybody? Sonny? The kids?"

"At home."

"Okay..."

"I'm here to talk to you."

"You couldn't pick up the phone?"

"You can't hang up on me in person."

Beth Anne sat on the couch, looking as poised as ever. She patted the spot beside her. Amanda was too anxious sit, so instead she stood in front of her, a delicate glass coffee table between them.

"I've been thinking a lot about what you said to me the other week," Amanda began slowly.

Beth Anne looked unfazed. "What'd I say?"

Her feigned ignorance immediately made Amanda's blood boil. "You know what you said. I'm not gonna take your inventory, mama, but you hate that I'm happy," she told her quietly but firmly.

"What are you talkin' about, Amanda?" her mother responded with a little laugh, looking at her daughter as if she had three heads.

"You're miserable. You have always been miserable. You were a pageant queen who thought you were gonna have some fairy tale life and it wasn't that at all. It sucked," Amanda said sharply. Now any promise she had made to herself about maintaining civility was gone: a lifetime of heartache was spilling out of her at the tiniest provocation. "It did suck, didn't it, mama? Never having any money, never knowing when daddy was going to show up with cash or what mood he'd be in. You got stuck with two kids you didn't even really want in the first place. You had to work and clean and do all the stuff you swore you'd never do because daddy wasn't _taking care of you._ You ever think he left because you were up his ass all the time, pressurin' him to provide the ridiculous life you thought you deserved? You ever think that's why he gambled?"

Beth Anne appeared annoyed. "Here we go again, your delusions about your father-"

"I'm not talking about him, I'm talking about you," Amanda reminded her, a barely perceptible shake in her voice. "You. You coulda picked yourself up and made a life with me and Kim after he left, made something better. Instead you spent every goddamn second chasing any man who had a bank account and booze, like we were just inconveniences. And you wanna make _me_ feel like I'm doing that to my children, like my own agenda comes before their well-being? No, mama, that's you, not me."

"How dare you? I tried my best with you and Kim!" She said it like she really, truly believed it.

"Oh, yeah, you tried at something alright," Amanda scoffed sarcastically. "I know you and Kim are thick as thieves, you always have been. You punished me for being close to daddy while you two ran around together like girlfriends. She learned from you, mama. She learned how to charm and scam people 'cause you taught her that's how you get by in life. I think she's had bipolar disorder since she was a teenager and you just turned a blind eye, 'cause you wanted to be her partner, not her mother. Now she's on parole-"

"Don't you dare blame me for what Kimberly has done," her mother interrupted her angrily, as if Amanda had finally crossed a line.

"You could have tried to help her instead of enabling her all the time!" she shouted, then managed to lower her voice. "She'll defend you till her dying day, too, and I've come to terms with that. And ya know what? Even if you try to brainwash her into thinking I don't love or care about her, I'll try my best to forgive you. But I came here to tell you that you're not gonna hold me hostage anymore. You want to be a part of my life? The lives of your grandchildren? Then stop trying to destroy it all because you're jealous. I'll be damned if my kids grow up like I did, wondering what the hell they did wrong to deserve what they got. But I've gotta lead by example, so if you can't change, if you can't think about somebody other than yourself, you and I... our relationship is over."

Beth Anne blinked at her, wide-eyed with shock. For once in her life, she appeared to be speechless.

Amanda held both her hands up in surrender. "I'm not doing this anymore, mama." With that, she turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Back at the hotel by the airport, Amanda cracked open the Jameson nip that sat atop the miniature refrigerator and dumped it into a glass with a handful of ice. She didn't know why she even bothered - she knocked back the entire thing in one gulp. The cheap whiskey stung her throat and chest, serving as a brief distraction from the sadness that was creeping up on her. She flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Amanda had thought it would feel great to confront her mother, to finally say all of the things to her that she had been harboring for years. And it had, in a way, but it was strangely isolating, too. She knew that her mother was too prideful to come crawling back to her daughter with an apology, leaving Amanda to believe that she would probably never see her again. Even though Beth Anne would go on living in Loganville, to Amanda, the finality of their conversation left her feeling like somebody had died.

Her phone rang in her pocket and she slid it out from under her. It was a FaceTime call from 'Carisi.' When she pressed the green button, half of Jesse's face appeared. Clearly it was the toddler's little hand holding the phone, because the picture wobbled every which way: Amanda caught sight of the corner of the kitchen, the ceiling, toys scattered on the wood floor.

"Mama?" Jesse's voice said outside of the frame.

"Hey, baby. What are you doing?" Amanda asked curiously.

"I'm eating pizza," her daughter said, mouth full, red sauce on her face once she finally figured out that she should look into the camera. She was very obviously attempting to balance food in her other hand, which was a lot for a person with developing motor skills.

"Yeah, I see that. What's your brother doing?"

"Uh... I dunno. Can he have pizza?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. Uh-oh!" Unsurprisingly, the phone fell out of her uncoordinated hand, landing face-down so the screen went black. "I dropped it!" she heard Jesse call.

"I told ya to use two hands," was Sonny's distant reply.

After a little rustling, Sonny's face appeared. He was leaned back on the couch, tie loosened and collar unbuttoned, five o'clock shadow forming on his jaw. "Hey."

She smiled. "Hi. How's it going?"

"Fine. Just eatin' pizza, drinkin'. Well, I'm the only one drinkin'." He lifted up his beer bottle as proof.

"I figured."

"How'd it go?"

Amanda rubbed her face with her free palm and sighed. "As good as it could have, I guess."

"You say everything you wanted to say?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Good. I'm proud of you."

"But..."

"But what?"

"I feel kinda sad."

Sonny frowned. "We'll all be waitin' for ya when you come home tomorrow."

"I know."

"Love ya."

"Love you, too."

Hanging up, Amanda started to cry. She wasn't even sure why: she was sad, she was grateful, she was tired, she was lucky. It was all of it at once, the physical representation of letting go of something that had never really been there at all.

* * *

Amanda and Fin walked leisurely down the New York City sidewalk, each of them holding a tray of coffees as they took their time returning to the precinct. The winter was always slow at SVU, so the morning had been lazy. Nobody was in a rush to do anything - and there wasn't much to do.

"Can I ask you something?" Amanda said, glancing over at her partner through the dark lenses of her Ray-Bans.

"Sure," he responded simply.

"Y'know how I'm getting married?" She was aware that she was stating the obvious.

"To that goofy tall guy, right? I think somebody mighta mentioned it," Fin replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, him. Well, I was wondering... y'think maybe, I mean, if you can... you could walk me down the aisle?" Words had never been Amanda's strong suit.

Fin stopped in his tracks. "'If I can?'" he repeated.

She stopped, too, letting other pedestrians move around them. "Yeah."

He smiled at her. "C'mon, girl. You know I will."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

Amanda grinned.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her into his side briefly. "I got you," he assured her, and she believed him.

* * *

Kim knocked on the glass of the SVU break room.

"Kim?" Amanda said anxiously, pulling open the door with the hand that wasn't holding a Diet Coke. Two large coffees hadn't cut it. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you." Her sister didn't look distressed, just earnest.

"Here?" Amanda shut the door behind her. "At the precinct?"

"Mama just called me and I was near by."

"Okay..."

"She told me you went to see her a few weeks ago. Said you were real nasty with her."

Amanda rolled her eyes.

"She asked me to move back to Loganville."

"That doesn't surprise me." Even though her tone was sharp, Amanda felt a twinge of dread.

"I'm not gonna go," Kim announced. "I wanted to let you know... I'm real happy I live here, with you, in New York."

"You're not gonna go?" Amanda repeated skeptically, like she had misheard.

Kim shook her head. "No."

"Oh. Well. Okay." Despite all of the chaos and disruption Kim had brought to her life, Amanda found herself relieved. She offered her little sister a grateful smile. "I'm glad."

* * *

It was the most beautiful piece of fabric she had ever touched. A deep-neck, sheath-style gown made of warm ivory satin crepe hung before Amanda. It was long, meant to pool romantically by the wearer's feet. Sleeveless, the neckline an understated cowl. There was delicate, elegant corseting at the upper back and a slit was placed perfectly off-center up the front. Earlier she had sworn that if Mrs. Carisi, Gina and Kim had made her go to _one more_ bridal salon that day, her head would have exploded, but now Amanda was drawn to this dress like a moth to a flame at the back of a SoHo boutique.

It was the beginning of January and nobody could believe that Amanda had waited so long to look for a gown. She wasn't even sure why she was procrastinating, exactly. Maybe it was because the entire process seemed overwhelming - much like every other aspect of wedding planning. There was so much tulle and sparkle, so many tiny buttons and layers of fabric, and none of it felt right on her body. At that point in the afternoon, she envied Sonny and his father, who were in Staten Island with Luca, Jesse and Frannie. Trying on dresses was more exhausting than a ten-mile run, especially when none of them pulled excitedly at her heartstrings.

"Ooh, I like that one," Kim exclaimed over Amanda's shoulder. "Try it on!"

Amanda hesitated. "I don't know..."

"Come on, Amanda! Just one more!" Gina pleaded.

"Jenny Packham. You have good taste," the model-esque retail associate named Nicole told Amanda coolly.

She had no idea what that meant, but it sounded expensive.

"Go 'head, Amanda. Try it on," Mrs. Carisi urged her.

Amanda scrunched up her nose. "Y'think I should?"

" _Yes!_ " the three woman said emphatically in unison.

Nicole was already carefully transporting the gown into one of the big dressing rooms. Begrudgingly, Amanda began to unbutton her coat for what felt like the millionth time that day as she followed her, leaving everyone else behind to wait.

"I'll pop in to help you with the back. There are heels in there, too," Nicole assured her, hovering just outside the thick changing room curtain to give Amanda some privacy.

Amanda began to peel off layers - and there were several of them, because New York City in January was brutal. She was almost afraid to step into the dress, like it was too nice, too pretty to have to endure her manhandling. Carefully, she loosened the whispery corset strings and undid the hidden zipper to begin to put it on. It slid over her like liquid, pooling at her feet so she had to lift the hem to step into the high heels left for her atop the pedestal. As if she sensed it, Nicole poked her head in and helped adjust the back of the gown.

"This is _everything_ ," Nicole murmured approvingly, cold fingers expertly moving fabric. "Take your hair down," she added, tugging at the elastic that was keeping Amanda's sloppy ponytail in place without waiting for her permission. Hands on her upper arms, Nicole coaxed her to turn around to face the big mirror.

Amanda looked up through her messy bangs. The dress didn't fit her perfectly, but it was pretty damn close. Blue eyes wide, for a moment she wasn't sure who that woman was, draped in such a beautiful garment. Unlike all of the others she had tried on that day, this had the corners of Amanda's mouth turning up in a genuine smile. She hardly even noticed Nicole leaving the room; she couldn't take her eyes off of what she was wearing.

It was a gasp from Sonny's mother that snapped her out of her reverie. Amanda turned around on the pedestal she was standing on to see Mrs. Carisi with her hand over her mouth, eyes shining with tears for the first time. Kim was nodding approvingly and Gina was scrambling for her phone.

"Amanda, that is _stunning!_ " Mrs. Carisi exclaimed, voice thick with emotion. "It's like it was made for you."

"It'll just need a little tailoring and it'll be absolutely perfect," Nicole said.

"This is it. This is the one," Gina decided for Amanda.

"Do you like it, 'Manda?" Kim asked her eagerly. "It's real nice."

"I love it," Amanda said with the most certainty she had possessed all day.

Gina clapped her hands together excitedly. "I told you, you know _the one_ the second you try it on!" she reminded Amanda smugly. For somebody who had never gotten married, Gina certainly had a wealth of information to offer during the process.

Amanda glanced back at her reflection in the mirror. Now her cheeks were flushed with the approval of the women around her - and from the flutter of excitement in her stomach. It was as if up until that moment, none of it had felt real. Not the venue or the catering or the three versions of the guest list, not even the ring on her finger. Now it was obvious: she was absolutely, undeniably getting married.

* * *

 **AN:** If you guys wanna know the dress I described/was imagining, Google "Jenny Packham Eclipse dress" and look at the very first image that appears. :-)


	30. Chapter 30

"You gave Fin a 'plus one'?"

Amanda cast a sideways glance at Sonny from her spot on the living room floor. She sat cross-legged, laptop on the coffee table, papers spread out around her. She was trying to narrow down the guest list on a snowy Saturday night after Luca and Jesse had fallen asleep; they had to send invitations out in the next two weeks. Between work and two children, it was hard to find time to collaborate with Sonny, although he didn't look too fazed: he was stretched out long on the couch, head against the armrest, lazily thumbing through whatever document Amanda passed him.

"Yeah, I did."

"He's not gonna bring anybody."

"It's a nice thing to do," Amanda insisted with a swallow of her drink. Sonny had made her a simple cocktail consisting of whiskey, macerated cherries and a lot of ice. It was a sweet gesture and it almost made the work she had to do less painful - almost. Frannie put her head in her lap and she scratched lovingly behind the dog's ears. "Your sisters will all get one. Liv, Leah, Barba..."

Sonny made a noise that indicated that he had already lost interest but was trying to pretend he hadn't.

"You, your father and Joe, I need y'all to go down to your guy in Staten Island for suits," Amanda said, tapping away on her keyboard with practiced fingers. He'd only have his best friend as his best man, while Amanda would only have Kim as her maid of honor. They had both agreed that it was easier that way. "I think dove gray would be nice."

"' _Dove gray._ '"

"Don't act like you don't know what color that is. I just emailed you some examples."

As she typed and clicked and drank, Amanda noted that Sonny was being uncharacteristically quiet. She had assumed that for the moment, their roles had switched: he was overwhelmed by the details, where as Amanda did well with black-and-white, organized tasks. It made her less nervous to feel like she was in control of something.

"So you know how I went to VICE yesterday? To work with them on that underground gamblin' and child porn investigation?" she heard Sonny say.

"Mm." Her eyes were still focused on her laptop screen, but she was listening. Liv had sent Sonny and Fin on that case deliberately, not Amanda, for reasons that were obvious.

"Murphy's back," he concluded.

It took Amanda a minute to register Sonny's words. When she did, she looked up at him with wide eyes. "What?"

Sonny ruffled his already-wild hair. "I saw him in the Lieutenant's office. He's kinda hard to miss."

"Did he see you?"

"I don't think so. We weren't in the squad for long."

"I fucking hate how he does that. Just reappears like he's coming back from the dead."

"He hasn't said anything to you?"

"No. I would've told you. He didn't even mention Jesse's birthday the other week."

"It was definitely him. I don't know if he's C.O. or not, but he's there."

"Maybe I should go talk to him."

Sonny looked over at her, appearing confused. "Why would you do that?"

Amanda shrugged. "I feel like I should."

He ran his palms roughly over his face and groaned into them, "why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Poke the bear. Go lookin' for trouble."

Amanda's mouth fell open in surprise for a moment, then she snapped it shut. "I do not do that," she protested indignantly.

"Yeah, you do. You gotta get right in the middle of everything," he challenged.

"No, I just don't avoid things. I prefer to confront stuff head-on," Amanda responded self-righteously.

"Are you implyin' that I don't?" Sonny retorted.

"You don't. You're always worried about hurting somebody's feelings."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying, I like to take care of things."

"No, you like to be in control," Sonny corrected her.

"So what?"

"You can't control everything."

"Is this argument about my character defects or Declan?" Amanda demanded sharply, brow furrowed in irritation as she glared across the table at him.

Sonny rolled his eyes, hand running through his hair again until it stuck up in three different directions. "What, exactly, d'you think you're gonna go talk to him about?"

"I dunno, I don't want him to find out we're getting married from other people," she explained tentatively.

"Why?"

"Because. That seems insensitive."

"You're worried about hurtin' Declan's feelings now?"

"No."

"Usin' the word 'insensitive' indicates to me that you are."

"God, stop lawyer-ing me, will you? I hate when you do that," Amanda blurted, annoyed.

"You mean when I point out the obvious?" he clarified a bit too smugly.

Amanda dropped her forehead down to rest on the edge of the coffee table, exasperated. Frannie used the opportunity to lick her owner's face and Amanda roughly wiped off the slobber with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "Are you done?" she sighed dramatically to Sonny, eyes closed.

"I'm done," he promised her.

She looked up at him. "Good. I won't do it, but I promise you: he'll come to me."

* * *

Barefoot, Amanda walked down the stairs of the Carisi home to get a glass of water. She left Sonny reading in bed after a long day of food and cake tasting, which seemed to be his favorite part of wedding planning thus far. Both Luca and Jesse were asleep while Frannie was enjoying being able to utilize the expansive backyard at her leisure.

"The Monsignor can't believe that Sonny isn't gettin' married in the church."

Amanda heard Dominick's voice from the kitchen and paused, halfway down the steps.

"Amanda wasn't baptized and she isn't Catholic," she heard Mrs. Carisi respond over the clattering of dishes and running water.

"I know, but they could have filed for dispensation. Or, better, she could have taken the Rite of Christian Initiation classes offered at the parish to become Catholic," Dominick retorted.

"When, Dom? She's got two little kids and a full-time job."

"All I'm sayin' is that it's not goin' unnoticed. People talk."

"Everybody at St. Clare's has always been too nosy for their own good."

"Hey, they've done a lot for this family."

"Of course they have." Sonny's mother sighed. "I know what you're sayin', Dom. I mean, the baby's almost five months old and still hasn't been baptized and it's driving me crazy, but I'm tryin' not to overwhelm them. This isn't exactly the most traditional situation."

Amanda didn't want to hear anymore. Quietly, she tip-toed back up the stairs with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She slipped back into Sonny's room to find him exactly where she had left him: sitting up, reading a book about Theodore Roosevelt in bed. She climbed back beneath the sheets, back to him as she studied the closed door. She wished she hadn't listened to the conversation between his parents, because nobody had brought up the Catholicism issue for months and Amanda had been relieved. The subject always made her itchy, anxious, like everybody in his family was secretly holding it against her that she didn't share in their faith. To them, it was a deficit, a short-coming.

She felt Sonny's hand rest warmly atop her hip. Glancing over her shoulder at him, Amanda saw that he was still reading, eyes focused on the pages in front of him, features relaxed because he was engaged in something he found enjoyable. There was no expectation behind his touch; it was almost like he just wanted to be reminded that she was there.

"Hey, Sonny?" she said, unmoving on her side.

"Hm?" he replied.

"I love you."

His hand gave her a small squeeze. "Love you, too."

For the moment, any lingering uneasiness was banished.

* * *

"Ooh, let me see," Amanda pleaded the moment Sonny was home, Luca on her hip as she hovered eagerly at his side in the kitchen.

He had spent an entire Sunday in Staten Island trying on suits. Now back in Long Island City, he appeared rather pleased with himself which Amanda took to be a good sign. Cheeks still pink from the bitter winter air and blue eyes bright with enthusiasm, Sonny thumbed through pictures on his phone while Amanda looked on.

"No... nope... is that one a joke?" Amanda rattled off her reactions to each photo easily - the wedding process had made her into a surprisingly discerning critic. When she saw him in one particular suit, however, she paused his scrolling with a swat of her hand. Dove gray, slim-fitting with a skinny tie tucked into a five-button vest, the tailoring complimented his lean muscle and long limbs. He always looked good dressed up, but this was exceptional. "That one. You look so handsome," she concluded. Luca cooed happily at the light tone of his mother's voice, as if also giving his approval.

"Y'think?" Sonny said, as if he was skeptical.

"I _know_ ," Amanda assured him before adding jokingly, "If you get anything else I won't marry you."

"Works for me," he told her easily. He put his phone back in his pocket. "C'mere, buddy," he said to Luca. He took the baby from Amanda, then playfully held him up in the air, as if he was admiring him. After a few seconds, he swung Luca back down in front of him, causing uncontrollable laughter to bubble up from the baby. He repeated the movement over and over, Luca's big, blue eyes growing wide in anticipation as he hovered in his father's grip, a drooling grin spreading across his small features, followed by more shrieking laughter.

The doorbell buzzed. Smiling, Amanda tore her eyes away from Luca and Sonny. "I'll get it," she offered as she quickly moved to the front of the apartment to pull open the door.

She was not expecting to see Declan Murphy in her hallway, but there he was. Rugged and broad, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, almost exactly how she had left him a year ago. Or, rather, how he had left her. They communicated sporadically via e-mail, but Declan's priority had always been his undercover work. It hadn't been a job for him for a long time - it was an identity. Knowing he was back in New York City had surprised her, but Amanda had warned Sonny: if she didn't find him, Declan would find her. It was only a matter of time.

"Declan. What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Hello to you too," he responded dryly.

"I mean, hi," she corrected herself sheepishly. "But..."

"I'm sorry I didn't call. Do you have time-"

"'Manda? Who is it?" Sonny appeared behind her, still holding the baby. "Oh, uh, hey, Lieutenant."

"Detective," Declan acknowledged the other man curtly then quickly looked back at Amanda. "Rollins, do you have a minute?"

"Is this about work?" she asked cautiously. Sonny continued to hover close.

He looked at her in silence, which presumably indicated that no, it was not.

Amanda did not want to invite him inside. She did not want to have any sort of conversation with Declan Murphy on her pleasant, light-hearted Sunday evening. But she also knew him, and when he wanted something, he got it. They were similar in that way. "Come in," she sighed.

There wasn't a lot of privacy in a New York City walk-up. She led Declan into the bedroom because she didn't know where else to go. Shutting the door behind them, Amanda was glad she had made the bed that day and that her clothes weren't strewn everywhere, as they usually were. She was, however, keenly aware of how obvious it was that the intimate space was shared: Sonny's suits and ties hung in the closet, his bigger shoes jumbled with her small ones on the floor. The jewelry and perfume on the bureau sat beside cologne and cuff links. Atop the dresser was a framed photograph of the two of them, heads pressed together as they grinned widely in sunglasses, originally taken on Sonny's phone with the help of his long arm. And of course there was Luca's crib, which for the time being was still positioned by their bed.

"So... what's up?" Amanda asked awkwardly, arms crossed over her chest like she was shielding herself from something.

"Why'd I have to find out you're getting married from NYPD office gossip?" Declan replied, gaze intense.

 _I knew it,_ she thought to herself, feeling simultaneously victorious and annoyed. "Declan, I didn't even know you were in the United States."

"You have my e-mail address. And my phone number."

"Fine. I guess I didn't think you needed to know."

"When?"

"April fourteenth."

"Jesse?"

"She's happy. You missed her birthday, by the way."

"I was in the middle of-"

"Whatever, Declan. Did you come here for an invitation or...?" Her words were sharp, sarcastic, but they had left her mouth thoughtlessly.

"No. I wanted to tell you, I'm coming out from under. I'm done."

"Okay..."

"I'm going to be back in the city, with VICE, full-time," he went on. "And I've been thinking, really thinking. I want to work something out to start seeing Jesse."

She rolled her eyes. "Declan-"

"It's my right, Amanda," he interrupted.

Sighing, she shook her head. She was going to have to tell him someday, so she supposed she should just get it over with now. "No, it's not, actually. I didn't put you on the birth certificate. Legally, you're a stranger."

Declan looked surprised, hurt. "You didn't?"

"No." Her gaze flitted from his. She didn't regret the decision, but in the moment saying it out loud felt callous.

"In that case, I don't want to have to take this to court, but I will," Declan told her firmly.

Amanda's eyes narrowed back on Declan. She could feel her heart rate picking up; she was not prepared for the direction this conversation was going in. "Fine. Go to court and tell the judge what an amazing father you've been to her for the past four years. They'll really be touched, I'm sure," she challenged him brusquely.

"If you think I won't get an affidavit of paternity, you're wrong." He lowered his voice to add, "I will get the best lawyer in the city and all of your dirty laundry is gonna play out in court."

Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm giving you the option to do this the easy way before I get the sheriff to serve you papers," Declan told her coolly.

"Okay, okay. Hold on. Just let me... talk it over first, okay?" Amanda could feel panic rising inside of her, how it knotted her stomach and burned up her chest and cheeks.

"With who? Carisi?" The disdain in his voice was obvious.

"And Jesse," she insisted.

"Legally, Carisi is just as much of a stranger as I am. He shouldn't be involved."

"But he _is_ involved. He's been involved before Jesse was even born," she blurted. "You can't keep doing this, Declan. You can't come in and out of our lives when the mood strikes you."

"It's not a 'mood,' Amanda. Things are different. I realize I haven't made Jesse a priority but I want to now. People can change. Shouldn't you know that better than anybody?"

Amanda rubbed at her forehead anxiously. She thought back to when she had tried to introduce little Jesse to Declan and how profoundly uncomfortable it had been. "Can you go, please?"

"I'm going to call you and we're going to talk about this. _Really_ talk about this," Declan informed her. His tone made it clear that there was no room for negotiation.

"Okay, just. Do that, then. Call me." She would have said anything to get him to leave. Amanda wasn't looking at him, but she could feel Declan's gaze on her. She held her ground, stubbornly quiet and still, until he finally left the bedroom without another word.

* * *

 **AN:** Along the way to the wedding, I'm thinking of peppering in some flashbacks from old Amanda/Sonny interactions from the show to add some further backstory/detail to them. I feel like it'd be a fun way to reflect back on their relationship before they take this big step, if that makes any sense! If any of you have any specific scenes you'd want included, let me know! It's just an idea. :-)


	31. Chapter 31

**AN:** Some NSFW stuff along the way here, friends.

* * *

 _Maternity leave didn't suit Amanda. Trapped in her apartment with a wailing infant and a dog, sleep-deprived and perpetually unsure, she longed for the distraction SVU provided. She loved Jesse, loved her with an intensity she never knew was possible, but she was lonely. Every now and then she caught glimpses of herself in the mirror, with bags beneath her eyes and her bangs sticking up every which-way and she wondered_ \- is this it? Is this how the rest of my life goes? Bottles and diapers and a big, empty bed? _She didn't have the option to make any more mistakes._ _She had to keep moving forward, she had to stop fantasizing about blackjack and Nick Amaro and the glamorous lives of reality television stars. She had to learn to ask for permission instead of forgiveness at work, to become a steady, reliable member of her team. She had to change everything because there was Jesse, soft and perfect and so very deserving of a decent mother._

 _Amanda put more effort into her appearance meeting Sonny Carisi for lunch that afternoon than she had in months. Her hair was washed, there was blush on her cheeks. She didn't know why she bothered, because Sonny talked too much and he hovered. Over her desk, behind her at the vending machine, at the morgue, he was never far away. Sonny was even at the hospital when she passed out at the court house, and the day that Jesse was born. She remembered thinking to herself,_ how the hell does this dude have energy to care about what I'm doing all the time? Doesn't he have a girlfriend? A dog, a bird, anything? _He certainly had big responsibilities: he was in law school, then studying for the bar all while working full-time as a SVU detective. Briefly, Amanda was convinced that Sonny had to have been doing drugs, because no person could possibly be so perpetually_ involved _without the assistance of a stimulant._

 _With Jesse in tow, she sat down with the tall detective. He talked and talked and talked, but there was something nice about the Staten Island lilt in his voice. She hadn't spoken to many adults during her time off, so Amanda figured that was why it was attractive to her now. There was also the graying of the hair at his temples, the dimples when he smiled, the lean muscles of his forearms..._

 _He was very annoying._

 _Yes, that's what Sonny Carisi was, with his random legal facts, his food, his incessant desire to be helpful. The way he looked at her across the table with his blue-gray eyes and too-long lashes..._

 _Ugh, obnoxious._

 _They walked away from the restaurant with coffees in hand and that's when Jesse began to cry. She had been doing so well, sweet and content bundled up in her fleece, but Amanda had anticipated that she would fall apart eventually. It was just that she kind of enjoyed Sonny's company and even if he_ was _weird, most likely he would not want to hang out with her while an infant shrieked uncontrollably._

 _Except that he did. More than that: Sonny scooped up the fussing baby with the kind of confidence even Amanda didn't possess. In his arms, Jesse quieted almost immediately._

 _"The secret is," Sonny told her, grinning, moving. "You gotta bounce from your knees. They love that."_

 _Amanda's eyes were wide and she thought she might cry. Maybe then Sonny Carisi would take care of her, too._

* * *

Amanda shamelessly set a giant bowl of chocolate chip ice cream in front of Jesse one night, two scoops covered in rainbow sprinkles and too much whipped cream. The little girl's eyes were wide with excitement as she enthusiastically dug in with her favorite pink plastic spoon. Amanda sat across from her at the table, watching, chewing the inside of her cheek. This was her pathetic attempt at buying her toddler's affection in anticipation of an uncomfortable conversation, one that Amanda had been tirelessly rehearsing in her head.

"Jesse?" Amanda started tentatively.

"Yeah?" the four-year-old replied, distracted.

"Y'know how you love daddy a lot?" Her wording was careful.

"Yeah," she responded thickly, mouth full of ice cream.

"Well... what if I told you that you had another one?"

"Wha?"

"When you were little, you met your other dad."

"Little? Like a baby?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"Oh."

"So you have two."

"Why?"

"Uh..." Damnit, Amanda hadn't anticipated a 'why.' She should have: Jesse never let her get away with offering any kind of explanation without thoroughly dissecting her mother's reply. "They both love you a lot."

"I dunno."

"Okay, well-"

The door opened and Sonny appeared, home from work.

"Daddy! Look, ice cream for dinner!" Jesse exclaimed, squirming to turn around in her chair. It was as if their entire conversation hadn't just happened.

Sonny eyed Amanda suspiciously as he pulled off his coat. "Oh, really? Is that a thing now?"

Jesse held up her dripping spoon. "Want some?"

"No, thanks, Jess," Sonny chuckled.

Amanda cleared her throat and gave him a pointed look. "We were just talking about Declan."

"Who's that?" Jesse asked.

"He's your dad," Amanda replied.

The little girl scrunched up her face and gave a little giggle as if to say, _you're nuts, mom._ "No he's not."

"The other one. Like we just talked about," she reminded her daughter.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sonny lean back against the counter, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he listened.

"Oh. The baby's too?"

"No..."

"Why not?"

"Because this is... different. Special."

Jesse shook her head. "No thank you."

"Excuse me?" Amanda raised her eyebrows, confused.

"No thank you. I don't want another one." Jesse reached over the table, waving her spoon. "Have some, mama?"

She sighed. "You eat it, baby."

Amanda looked over at Sonny for some support. He was always so good at re-framing things for Jesse when Amanda's way wasn't effective, but now his eyes had left them and instead, he was intently studying the floor.

* * *

Amanda couldn't sleep. She kept thinking about Jesse and Declan and the way Sonny's family kept tip-toeing around her unfortunate lack of religion. She felt jumbled up and jittery; she couldn't believe Sonny could get any rest with her tossing and turning beside him. She had already gotten out of bed three times that night: once to check on the baby, whose bassinet now resided in the living room, again to eat her weight in frozen grapes, and most recently to reorganize the medicine cabinet. Despite these earnest attempts, they all proved to be tasks that occupied her hands, not her mind.

Rolling on to her side in bed, Sonny was asleep facing her. His features slack, hair a mess, stubble on his jaw, she was envious of his obvious relaxation. She poked at his bare chest. "Hey. You awake?" Amanda whispered.

He was clearly not awake, which she supposed was acceptable given the time of night on a Thursday. Frowning, she prodded his stomach anyway. "Sonny?"

His eyes fluttered open. "Wha?"

"I can't sleep," she told him.

"Okay," Sonny murmured as he started to close his eyes again.

"No, hey, wake up." Amanda wriggled closer to him and rested a leg over his, hoping to keep his attention.

"I'm up, I'm up. Is it six already?" he mumbled, disoriented.

"No, it's two thirty in the morning."

"Then why the hell am I awake?"

"Because I am."

He grunted, eyelids drooping.

Amanda kissed him and he was apparently not too tired to kiss her back. At first it was slow and lazy, but then she felt his hands wandering and she was certain she had his interest. "Are you still asleep?" she murmured against his mouth, knowing the answer.

"No." His voice was hoarse but clear.

She smiled. Using the leg that was already atop of his as leverage, she rolled forward until he was on his back and she was straddling him. One hand rested on the flat of his stomach and the other slid into his hair so when she leaned forward, she was right up against his chest to kiss him. His palms were moving around her like she was light as air, rough yet gentle against her smooth skin.

She was making tiny, provocative movements with her hips. Yes, he was very much awake now. The teasing was a game to Amanda, it was always a game that was as much about testing her own self-control as it was about pushing him into anything. She knew that her desire for adrenaline played out in all aspects of her existence: in her job, her love affair with gambling, in sex. It wasn't a bad thing, she figured - well, aside from the betting that had wreaked havoc on her life. This, though - this was good. Every time she leaned in to press their mouths together, she wriggled deliberately.

She could have kept going like this all night (morning?), excitement pooled in her stomach and at the base of her spine as she rubbed against him. The haze of sleep gone, Sonny knew what she was doing - and he was looking for more. That was part of the allure for Amanda: she liked to provoke him until he was just on the verge of undone. His fingers blindly hooked into the underwear she had on beneath her too-big t-shirt, sliding it downward. She helped him with a practiced arch of her back and quick movements of her legs until she was on top of him again, naked from the waist down. The hard, biting kisses he was giving her indicated that he wasn't interested in any further taunting. He pushed the waistband of his boxers down, hands returning to grope her, urging her forward as if she needed coaxing. She titled her hips _just so_ , until he was inside of her.

Tremulous and warm, the moan that fell out of her mouth was more of a whisper of a sound rather than anything. She had to give herself a moment to get used to the feeling, and the kiss she gave Sonny was softer, deeper, a little more desperate around the corners. She rolled her hips slowly at first, the only sound her heartbeat in her ears and the both of them trying to snatch air from around one another's mouths. At first his grip at her thighs was light, lazy, but it didn't take long for her to feel his fingers press harder, more insistently, into the muscles there. She wanted more, too. Her pace became quick but rhythmic and the low groan he muffled against her lips encouraged her. It wasn't hard for her body to be athletic and she was trying to hit that perfect spot of deep enough, fast enough, yes - enough.

This was where the way their bodies fit together, how well they knew each other came into play. Nothing that came so naturally, that was so easy to achieve should, in any way, feel as incredible as having sex with Sonny did, Amanda was sure of it. Chemistry was supposed to be difficult, wasn't it? It was supposed to be a mystery. Except there was no conundrum here. There was just her orgasm crashing over her, something that she was trying to hold onto, that feeling of flying and free-falling that made everything ache in the best way. Shaking from the inside out, her fingers scraped over his chest, trying to steady herself. Crumpled over him, the slight gasp in her throat was one of pure delight. She murmured kisses into his shoulder, his neck, his cheek, greedily all over him with her hands, mouth and body until he came, too.

Breathing him in, there was the smell of his soap and their sheets. Amanda's mind was fuzzy, body limp, so very far from the thoughts that had her obsessively rearranging pill bottles and toothpaste in the bathroom. She could feel Sonny's hands soothing over her back beneath the shirt she was still wearing, up and down, up and down, his chest rising and falling against hers. All of the fragments of herself that Amanda was always trying to keep together, they were irrelevant. This was when they were one person, just one person, and completely whole.


	32. Chapter 32

**AN:** Happy weekend, all. Buckle up for this one (literally).

* * *

 _"Nick? That guy's a disaster magnet."_

 _Sonny Carisi often spoke without thinking. He was trying to be better about it, but being new at SVU made him nervous and when he was nervous, stupid stuff came out of his mouth like word vomit. This was one of those times, clearly, because Amanda Rollins was eyeing him with such icy intensity that he was certain she could freeze hell._

 _Much to his surprise, he found that extremely attractive._

 _His first day at SVU, it took Sonny approximately forty-five minutes to figure out that she and Nick Amaro were sleeping together; he had never seen two people exchange so many long-suffering looks. He couldn't say it shocked him: Rollins had an edge to her and so did Amaro. They were both fiercely guarding something, Sonny just didn't know what. Maybe they shared it with one another._

 _Truthfully, he didn't really care about Amaro. In Sonny's opinion, he was teetering on the edge of unhinged, the sort of cop who snapped and opened fire at the DMV when their number didn't come up fast enough. He figured that's why Amanda liked him. A lot of women were into that sorta stuff: the brawn, the brooding, the mystery. Sonny was none of those things, of course, but he wasn't too worried about it._

 _"I liked you better with the 'stache," Amanda told him coolly before brushing past him._

 _Man, she was a tough critic. A perpetual critic, actually. Sonny didn't know much else about her except that she was smart. She was always two steps ahead of him, always observing, always calculating. He had heard rumors that she had a gambling problem, a vice he never really understood, but that wasn't exactly something you asked a coworker about over coffee. If it was true, it didn't matter so much to him; everybody had their crosses to bear._

 _He wanted Amanda to like him. She was a good detective and she was pretty. Always aware of Amaro and his piercing stare, Sonny tried not to look at her too much. Or at least, too obviously. He did most of his observing when they were in the car or in the field together. She had bright blue eyes and spoke with the barest hint of a southern accent. For some reason, whenever 'y'all' or 'baby' slid from her mouth, it shot straight down Sonny's spine. Her ass was another issue: it was a good one. That had always been his thing._

 _Whatever she had with Amaro wasn't going to last, Sonny was sure of it. There was something soft beneath Amanda's tough exterior, something that Sonny wanted to know, and he was counting on Nick mishandling it. He probably would get back with his wife - his type always got back with their wives._

 _Sonny was patient, though. He would wait to pick up all of Amanda's pieces, if she let him._

* * *

Amanda carefully put delicately designed card stock into a lined envelope. Sonny's mother was doing a lot for this wedding, so stuffing and mailing invitations was an opportunity for the two of them to be helpful. Amanda was determined to get them out by tomorrow morning, mostly because she couldn't bear to listen to his mother obsess about RSVPs any longer. Thank God those would go to Staten Island, so Mrs. Carisi could sleep more soundly at night.

Sitting at the kitchen table amid piles of stationary, she glanced over at Sonny. He looked rather adorable, long fingers cautiously assembling envelopes, making sure all of the right contents were included. A curl of hair hung over his forehead, loose from the rest of the style.

"Declan wants to meet for lunch, with me and Jesse," Amanda offered, tone casual.

"Oh?" He didn't look up from his work.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"You haven't said a lot about it."

"'Bout what?" he asked, putting a completed invitation in the pile they had set to the side.

"This thing, with Murphy," she clarified.

Sonny shrugged. "It's not my place."

"When's that ever stopped you?" Amanda wasn't teasing him - she really wanted to know.

He looked very focused on his stationary assembly line, which was likely an act. He was doing that thing where he pretended to be so involved in a task that he didn't hear her - usually when she was saying something he didn't like. But Sonny had graduated law school and passed the bar, so Amanda was not convinced that stuffing envelopes required all of his brain power.

"Sonny?" she prompted him again.

"Hm? What? It's not my place. This is between you, Jesse and her father." He was trying to be cavalier, but somehow that made the note of sadness in his voice all the more obvious.

Amanda paused her work and sat back in her chair. Watching him, she spun her engagement ring around on her finger. She hadn't thought at all about how this ordeal had impacted Sonny. He was always so resilient, so steady, that Amanda had assumed he would take it all in stride. It was always Amanda that was emotional or irrational, needing somebody to bring her back down to earth.

"Does that bother you?" she finally asked him.

He exhaled and began to fiddle absently with an invitation. "A little, yeah."

She frowned. Sonny was unflinchingly honest. He never tried to keep her at arm's length, even if it made him vulnerable. Amanda, on the other hand, had a bad habit of getting distant and cold when confronted with the uncomfortable.

"When people ask me how many kids I've got, I always say two. Jesse isn't my daughter, but..." Sonny continued, voice low because the four-year-old was asleep in her room near by. "But she kinda is. And I like it that way."

"She does, too," Amanda assured him.

A surly shadow crossed his face. "That's because she's too young to get it right now, Amanda. It's not always gonna be that way. And once she's old enough to understand that Murphy is her real father, is she gonna like... start callin' me by my first name or something?"

Her heart hurt. She knew that Sonny loved Jesse - he was enamored with her from the day she was born - but he had never verbalized anything like this. Amanda supposed that up until this point, he never had to. In thoughtful silence, she toyed with her lower lip, one of her go-to nervous habits. Eventually she got up from her chair and walked over to Sonny so she could sit on his lap, arms looping around his neck. She kissed his jaw, his cheek, then rested her forehead against the side of his head. "She's so lucky to have you, Sonny. Without you, she'd only be stuck with me, and she wouldn't have a brother," she said gently. "You're her hero. To her, you're the coolest thing ever. I'm just like... the annoying person who gave birth to her."

A smile twitched at the corner of Sonny's lips.

"If I didn't think you were worthy of it, I wouldn't have spent the last four years lettin' her think you're her dad. And maybe that's gonna make things messier now, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Amanda continued honestly, dropping a hand to press it against his chest. "You're always gonna be 'dad.' When she's old enough I'll explain the difference, but I'll make sure she knows that it doesn't make you less her father."

He turned his head to kiss her. "Thanks," he murmured, but he didn't have to. Sonny had done so much for her, it was the very least Amanda could do for him.

* * *

"If you lose anymore weight, you're gonna disappear," Sonny's mother exclaimed. She handed Amanda a chunk of crusty bread while her other hand stirred a pot on the stove. "Here, eat this."

Amanda was trying to remind herself of the unforgiving fabric of her wedding dress every time she was confronted with food that was especially bad for her - 'trying' being the operative word. That night she took the bread because only a fool would turn down something that delicious. She was only human, after all. The Carisis existed on carbohydrates, cheese and meat, so any attempt at dieting in their presence was usually futile anyway. Smiling, Amanda picked away at the bread while she balanced the baby on her hip, back leaned against the counter as Sonny's mother made dinner. Luca's little fingers grabbed for Amanda's hand, like he grabbed for everything these days.

"Bella said you two took Jesse and Angelina to the children's museum last week," Mrs. Carisi said, mentioning Bella and Tommy's daughter, who was only a little older than Jesse.

Amanda nodded. "We did. It was fun."

"It's a nice place. St. Clare's had a fundraiser there last year."

Amanda shifted in her spot. Luca gurgled. Ugh, she had to say something. "That reminds me..."

"Hm? Reminds you of what?" Mrs. Carisi glanced over her shoulder at her curiously.

Brow knitted together, she asked, "does it bother y'all that we're not getting married in the church?"

"What? Don't be silly. Of course not." Mrs. Carisi's voice was high-pitched and nervous. She was obviously lying.

Amanda didn't say anything.

After a moment of awkward silence, his mother turned around and patted Amanda's cheek in a way that was meant to be reassuring. "You worry too much."

* * *

Sonny drove the four of them back to Long Island City after dinner. The car was a NYPD fleet vehicle, which they all had from time to time just in case they were called to a case on off-hours. The best part were the city license plates: they could park anywhere at any time and remain unbothered, a true luxury in New York. As they headed home that evening, Amanda leaned the side of her head against the cold passenger's side window. She kept thinking about Sonny's mother and how she was trying to minimize conflict, trying not to address the Catholic elephant in the room. It was so unlike her - or any of the Carisis - not to be vocal about their opinions, and Amanda didn't know what to make of that.

"I asked your mom something tonight," Amanda said.

Sonny looked over at her. "Yeah?"

"I asked her if it bothered everybody that we weren't getting married in the church."

Sonny almost swerved off the road. "You did what?"

Amanda shrugged. "I wanted to know."

"What'd she say?" he asked her tentatively, as if he was afraid of the answer.

"She said 'no' and told me I worry too much," she sighed.

Sonny nodded, seemingly relieved.

In the dark car, Amanda watched Sonny's profile. "She's lying."

His brow furrowed. To say anything even remotely disparaging about his mother was risky. "She's not."

"She is. Your whole family is secretly discussing our unholy union," Amanda insisted sarcastically, wearily.

"You're bein' crazy."

"I overheard your mom and dad talking about it one night."

"When?!" He looked over at her with wide eyes.

"A few weeks ago. When we stayed over after meeting with the caterer."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He kept stealing mildly panicked glances at her between looking at the road. "What did they say?"

"I dunno. I'm telling you now. Your dad's kinda pissed that I didn't convert, or we didn't get dispensation or whatever the hell it is."

Sonny audibly exhaled.

Turning in her seat, she asked carefully, "be honest with me. Does it bother you, too?"

He flexed his fingers around the steering wheel. "'Bother' isn't really the right word."

"Then what is the word?"

"I don't know," he began tentatively. "It'd be nice to get married in the church, yeah. But it's not a big deal."

She had anticipated his answer, but it stung a little bit anyway. The last part of Sonny's statement was clearly a haphazard afterthought and she wished he had had the sense not to say it, because somehow it made it feel worse.

"We can baptize Luca," she offered.

"Don't, Amanda." She couldn't see Sonny's eyes rolling, but she heard it in his voice.

"'Don't' what?"

"Don't play 'let's make a deal' with this stuff. Like, 'I don't wanna get married in the church but hey, I'll toss you the opportunity to get your kid baptized as a consolation prize.'"

Her mouth hung open at how coarse he was being. "This really _does_ bother you, doesn't it?"

"I just told you-"

"You know, you never even asked if I would. Get married in the church, I mean," she interrupted him hastily.

"Are you kiddin' me?" he laughed crassly. "Like you would've let me outta that conversation in one piece?"

"I'm just saying, you didn't ask. You assumed."

"Assumed correctly." He stopped the car at a red light at a large intersection but he didn't turn to face her.

Amanda clenched her jaw and glared straight ahead. "I'm so sorry that I've compromised your place in heaven," she mumbled derisively.

Foot on the gas again, her comment had clearly struck a nerve: "see, that's what you do, Amanda. You're always makin' a mockery out of-"

Sonny did not finish his sentence.

Amanda's eyes grew wide with fear because she saw it coming, but she saw it too late. A white pick-up truck - it was supposed to be stopped, but it hurtled through the intersection anyway, headlights bright and trajectory weaving, erratic.

In an instant, life was narrowed down to a horrifying assortment of sounds: brakes squealing, Jesse shrieking, and the deafening crunch of metal on metal.


	33. Chapter 33

**AN:** Here is all I had time to edit today, hopefully more tomorrow.

* * *

The force of the impact sent them spinning, skidding uncontrollably. Amanda could hear nothing and everything: glass shattering, metal crumpling, the baby wailing. The airbags deployed, swallowing her, blinding her, covering her in dust. Something hot stung her neck.

Where was God now?

When the car finally came to a heaving halt, there was Sonny's voice. "Are you okay?" he kept asking her loudly, anxiously, over and over. He was talking, he was breathing. He was alive. Amanda couldn't answer his question. Disentangling herself from the airbag, she had to use all the force of her body to slam her shoulder into her door to crack it open. The entire front of the vehicle was destroyed: the hood was rumpled and hanging sideways off of the car. It was a jumble of smashed plastic, metal and grating, the engine exposed and steaming, the two front tires bent and displaced.

Luca had been in his carseat behind her. She could hear him howling. Amanda pulled open his door at the same time Sonny was at the other side of the car, flinging open that door, too. Luca was loud, red-faced in his seat, little arms reaching out and grabbing at his mother. "You're okay, baby, you're okay," she heard herself assured the little boy, her tone far from calming. Shaking hands unfastened the straps that had thankfully kept the five month old secure, pulling him from his confines to press him into her body. She tried to assess him, to see if he was hurt, quickly holding his little face in her free hand to find it unscathed.

Luca was loud, but Jesse was not. Sonny was pulling her from her booster seat, holding her to his side, talking to her with the kind of anxious desperation that let Amanda know that Jesse was injured. Holding tight to Luca, Amanda ran to Sonny. Even in the dark, amid the smoke and dust, she could see the welt on the little girl's forehead, red and purple and angry. Her little eyelashes were fluttering, nose crinkling, but she was silent.

Where was God now?

"Jesse? Hey, Jesse?" Amanda's voice was raised, teetering on the edge of hysterical screaming. Frantic fingers smoothed hair away from Jesse's face, her head lolling against Sonny's shoulder as Amanda tried to get more of a reaction out of her. It was as if Jesse wanted to speak but couldn't, caught somewhere between awake and a kind of terribleness that Amanda didn't want to say out loud.

Traffic moved around them but Amanda was only vaguely aware of it. If it was cold out, she didn't feel it. If it was late, she wasn't tired. She wasn't anything at all if her children weren't okay.

The driver of the pick-up truck was staggering around outside of his smoking vehicle, very obviously drunk and disoriented, shouting slurred obscenities in their direction.

"Hey! Don't move, you son of a bitch! I'm off-duty NYPD. Stay right where you are," Sonny yelled angrily, free arm extended and finger pointed.

The intoxicated man paused, swaying in place, lucid enough to heed Sonny's warning.

Amanda wasn't used to being on the receiving end of lights and sirens. Soon everything was flashes of red and blue, two Staten Island squad cars, a firetruck and a several ambulances. How many motor vehicle accidents had she seen on patrol in Atlanta? Back then she was fresh and eager, arriving at scenes almost hoping for foul play because piecing together a mystery would be more exciting than yet another run-of-the-mill tragedy. Now she was horrified that she ever trivialized that sort of suffering.

EMTs took Luca from her and Jesse from Sonny quickly; Amanda didn't have time to protest or question. They kept asking her things, telling her things, as if she was in any state to answer. _Are you injured? Do you need an ambulance? We should take a look at your neck..._ Her mouth hung open, but no sound came out. When someone rested a hand on her arm, she jerked it away automatically. She ran to the ambulances, feeling like she was being ripped in half, torn by the desire to be with both of her children simultaneously.

"You're the girl's mother?" somebody asked her.

A mother, yes, that's what she was. It was the very best part of her, didn't these people understand that?

"I, what? Yes, that's me," Amanda managed.

"This way." The same somebody began to guide her toward the ambulance that presumably held Jesse.

"Wait, wait a second," she demanded, shaking the person's hand off of her, turning around. "The baby-"

"I got him, go!" Sonny called over to her, long limbs already climbing into the back of the other ambulance.

Of course. Amanda was not alone in this. God wasn't there, but Sonny was.

* * *

Richmond University Medical Center was the closest hospital. The emergency room was sprawling, shiny and totally unfamiliar to Amanda. Out of the ambulance, she stayed close to Jesse's stretcher as it was quickly rolled down a long hallway in the trauma center. Soon a nurse had no choice but to pry her fingers from the railing, telling Amanda, _you can't go back there now, miss. You have to give them some space to help her._ The older woman kept a hold of Amanda's hand as she spoke.

The big double doors swung closed, leaving Amanda behind. Motionless for a moment, she tried to communicate to her limbs that she needed to relocate. Eventually her legs took her toward the waiting room they had passed along the way. She was fuzzy, disconnected, like she had watched all of this happen from up above - not experienced it in real time.

Through her haze, she saw Sonny. She felt like she was moving though molasses, but he was sprinting full-speed toward her. She stopped walking; he had the energy she didn't possess. He didn't speak, just wrapped his arms around her tightly, like he was trying to absorb her into his own frame. He was solid, real, in one piece, and that felt good. When she breathed in, though, she didn't smell his familiar cologne or the detergent lingering in the fabric of his henley shirt - it was smoke and chemicals that clung to Sonny. That was when she started to cry, her legs weak, totally dependent on him to keep her upright.

She was crying because she was scared. She was crying because she was angry. She saw depraved, unthinkable things at work every single day, but Amanda still couldn't wrap her mind around how somebody could be so careless as to drink and drive. Didn't he know the roads were filled with people just trying to make it home to give their kids a bath, to read them stories and tuck them in? Didn't he understand that the car he had sent spinning out of control contained the entire world?

Pulling away just slightly, she blinked up at Sonny. Worry was etched deeply on his face. Her voice was tremulous, strained as she asked, "what do we do? What do we do if..."

Sonny grabbed Amanda's hand that was clutching his chest. "Don't, Amanda. Don't go there," he told her firmly, but somehow his tone was still gentle, soft. "I shoulda seen that guy run that light, I shoulda stopped faster..."

Amanda shook her head, dislodging more tears. "You couldn't have. There's no way. You couldn't have," she assured him. "He was going so fast..."

He didn't appear convinced and his hand rubbed at his jaw roughly. "What a fuckin' jackass. I wish I coulda arrested him."

If she had had the energy, Amanda would have spent it fantasizing about murdering that driver. Instead, she was too consumed by her worry. Sonny murmured something about sitting down and she wordlessly agreed, moving to drop her body into an empty chair. He sat beside her, leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees and hands clasped loosely. Head bowed, he studied the floor. Amanda wondered if he was praying.

Minutes ticked by. Her fingers tugged at her hair repeatedly, distractedly, in a way that probably should have been painful but she was oddly numb. Every now and then a jolt of anxiety coursed through her: was Jesse afraid? Confused? Why couldn't she talk? Was Luca still crying? Had she missed an injury when she pulled him from the car?

"Carisi."

They both looked up: a uniformed officer stood in front of them. He was in his thirties, with tan skin and dark hair, and his brown eyes appeared solemn. He was holding Amanda's purse, which she hadn't even thought to grab in her frantic exit from the vehicle. It was covered in airbag dust.

Sonny stood up, seeming to know the man. Amanda assumed they worked together in Staten Island. "Russo, hey. I didn't see you at the scene."

They exchanged a handshake and a one-armed hug as Russo explained, "Esposito caught the call from a bystander, radio'd and said it was you so I went over. I grabbed this from the car..." He held up Amanda's bag before setting it on the magazine-covered table gently.

"Thanks," Amanda murmured. She was grateful, she just didn't know how to show it right then.

"Thanks, man," Sonny echoed.

"The other driver blew a .19. They collared the son of a bitch. You guys okay?" Russo asked anxiously.

Sonny shrugged. "We're okay."

"Looks like the airbag chemicals got your neck pretty good," Russo observed, eying Amanda sympathetically.

Her fingers reached up to blindly, tentatively graze her throat. Wincing in surprise, her skin stung at the light touch, leading Amanda to believe that she had been burned.

"The kids?" Russo pressed.

"We don't know anything yet," Sonny told him quietly.

The officer gave a little nod of understanding. "Lemme know if you need anything while you're here. The accident report can wait."

When they said their goodbyes and they were alone again, Sonny began to pace, arms crossed over his chest. It was making her nervous, but she didn't have the heart to tell him that. She already knew he was replaying the split-second collision over and over in his head, picking apart the details and wondering how he could have avoided the crash. As cliche as it was, Amanda knew they had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, although she was feeling guilty about how she had insisted on having an emotionally-charged conversation in the car. If anything happened to Luca or Jesse, would the last thing they heard be them bickering with one another?

"Does this cutie belong to you two?"

A nurse with a kind smile appeared in the waiting room holding Luca, who looked exactly how he had when they had left the Carisi house hours earlier: healthy, in tact. Amanda leapt up from her seat and Sonny turned on his heel. Relief broke across his face as he reached for the baby, who willingly went into his arms. He kissed the side of his head.

"Is he alright?" Amanda asked the nurse anxiously, hovering close to Sonny to take Luca's hand so she could kiss his tiny knuckles.

"Not a scratch on him. The impact was on the driver's side and he was pretty snug in that car seat, so he was just shaken up. Of course if he has any symptoms like lethargy or vomiting, bring him right back in," the nurse explained.

"And Jesse? Jesse Rollins? Where is she? Can I see her?" Amanda's pulse was racing.

The nurse's smile faltered slightly. "She's pretty bruised and has a grade three concussion, meaning she lost consciousness for at least a minute and now she's pretty foggy. We've got her in a CT scan right now to make sure she doesn't have any internal bleeding."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. "You mean something could be wrong with her brain?"

"When there's a head injury that's strong enough, blood vessels burst. When that happens, the blood pushes up against the brain. We don't want that," she told them carefully. "Kids are extremely resilient. Our hope is she's back to normal in a few hours, but we'll know more once the CT scan is finished."

 _Our hope._

For some reason, that didn't leave Amanda feeling hopeful at all.


	34. Chapter 34

_"...I felt like a real-life Disney princess," Melanie simpered, shiny and lovestruck on Heart's Desire._

 _Ugh._

 _Amanda couldn't believe it, but she was jealous. Jealous of a twenty-five-year-old on a television show that was totally fake. For a moment she fantasized about what it would be like to be treated as Melanie had been: spoiled, fawned over. Had she ever experienced that? Amanda's romantic relationships had been fairly lackluster since she started dating as a teenager. Nobody had ever even bought her flowers, let alone taken her on a carriage ride. She didn't necessarily want to be driven around New York City like a tacky tourist, but the realization still made her sad._

 _"Oh, no. No, no," Sonny groaned. "No guy wants to hear that. Rollins... are you cryin'?"_

 _He was standing next to her, holding her baby. Heat rushed to Amanda's cheeks as she quickly brushed tears away from her eyes. "No!" She sunk back into the couch and occupied herself with Frannie, who was pawing at her thigh, looking for more popcorn._

 _"You are. You are so busted," Sonny laughed._

 _Grinning despite herself, she looked over at him. Amanda was so focused on the superficial fantasy on her television screen that she almost forgot to appreciate the man whose generosity and charm was playing out right in the middle of her living room._

 _Lately, her heartbeat quickened when he was around._

 _Lately, her eyes lingered on his hands, his shoulders, the muscles in his back, even when she was supposed to be working._

 _Lately, Amanda was more and more convinced that she was falling in love._

* * *

Sitting in the waiting room, Luca slept contently against Sonny's chest like nothing had happened at all. Amanda moved from their side to standing to pacing then back again, anxious. Back in her seat once more, she leaned her head against Sonny's shoulder. His hand was on Luca's back, and she put her own on top of his. His thumb twitched to graze hers, a wordless acknowledgement of her presence. Neither of them had said much since the nurse left; everything felt too fragile and tenuous.

Amanda watched the baby breathe rhythmically beneath their palms, a lump rising in her throat. Jesse had been that small once. Sonny had held her that way, too, as if Jesse had been born to benefit from his reassuring warmth. Sometimes Amanda thought that her daughter had fallen in love with Sonny at the very same moment she had.

"I'll never forgive myself if she isn't okay." Sonny's quiet voice broke the silence.

Amanda lifted her head and frowned. "Sonny..."

He interrupted her. "I know he was drunk. He ran a red light. I know. But..."

"No. There's _nothing_ you could have done," she insisted.

He shook his head, staring straight ahead. Amanda wasn't sure if she had ever seen him this upset. Cases got under his skin and he'd get angry or solemn, but this was very different. He looked sick, pained.

Her phone rang in her back pocket and Amanda jumped, startled by the sound. Reaching for it, the screen read 'Murphy.' She ignored the call impulsively, but he called back almost immediately. Standing up, Amanda walked to the furthest corner of the waiting room. She could feel Sonny's confused eyes on her.

She pressed the phone against her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, how's it going?" Declan's voice was painfully casual.

"Um..."

"We still on for lunch with Jesse tomorrow?"

"Um, probably not, no."

"Amanda, c'mon. It went well last time-"

She screwed her eyes shut and told him shakily, "no, Declan. There's been an accident."

"What? What kind of accident?" he demanded.

Rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand, Amanda pulled in a deep breath. "Sonny and I, we were at his parents' in Staten Island. He was driving us all back and a drunk driver ran a red light-"

"Are you okay? Is Jesse?" Declan interrupted her.

"I'm okay. Jesse is..." She didn't want to have to say it out loud, like that would make it more real.

"'Jesse is' what, Amanda? What?" He was so intense, so... not at all like Sonny.

"She has a pretty serious concussion. They've been doing some tests on her, we're not really sure what's happening..." Amanda explained quietly.

"I'm coming down there."

Her eyes widened with a surge of panic. "Declan, no. Do not come down here."

"Somebody's gotta take control of this situation, Amanda."

"It's under control!"

"Clearly it isn't if you don't know anything and Carisi can't even drive a goddamn car."

"The other driver was drunk, Declan. It's not-"

He hung up on her and she felt nauseous. As if Amanda wasn't concerned enough about Jesse, now she had to endure Declan and his incessant need to be in charge of every situation - even when he had no right to be. Jesse and Declan had met only once recently, and even though Jesse didn't totally understand the role he played in her life, the interaction was pleasant enough. Even so, he was still little more than a stranger to her.

"Who was that?" Sonny asked her as she walked back to the chairs.

She sat down next to him. "Declan. He's coming here."

Sonny rolled his eyes, forehead creasing. "Oh, come on."

"I told him not to," she sighed.

"Whatever," he shook his head, appearing resigned. "It's not him I'm worried about right now."

* * *

"Amanda?"

The same nurse that had brought Luca to them an hour ago appeared in the waiting room. Amanda and Sonny both leapt to their feet to speak with her.

"It doesn't look like Jesse has any internal bleeding," the nurse told them. "She's alert and talking again. She's banged up, has a tiny fracture in her pinky finger, but that'll heal on its own."

Amanda felt her knees go weak with relief and she swayed in place, Sonny's hand at her back steadying her.

"Can we see her?" Sonny asked.

"Of course. She's in bay number three," the nurse said with a kind smile, waving them down the hall.

They found Jesse sitting up in the bed. It was a massive mattress and frame meant for an adult, making the four-year-old look even tinier than usual. Jesse was clipping and unclipping the pulse oximeter on her finger like it was a plastic creature taking a bite out of her. The bruise on her forehead was big; Amanda hadn't remembered it being so large, but it had been dark and it was all a blur now. There was gauze and tape at the wound's center, protecting the laceration underneath. Jesse's skinny right arm was black and blue and covered in red abrasions, most likely from the metal of the car's door that had been crushed inward.

"Hey, baby," Amanda said, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.

"Mama!" Jesse exclaimed, eyes wide as she attempted to crawl out of bed to get to her mother faster.

Amanda rushed to her side and stopped her with a hug, then a kiss, then a squeeze of her shoulders. It was almost like she was trying to make sure her daughter was really whole. "You're alright. Mama's here, we're all here." She cupped Jesse's little face in her hands and smiled.

"My head hurts," she whined.

She leaned down kissed her again. "I bet it does. We'll get you some more medicine."

Sonny sat at the edge of the bed. "You're pretty brave, kiddo."

Jesse crawled over to Sonny to tuck herself against his side beneath the arm that wasn't holding Luca. To make it easier, Amanda took the baby from him gently. Sonny soothed a hand up and down Jesse's upper arm as the little girl announced, "I had to go in a machine."

"The doctor had to make sure that big brain of yours was okay," Sonny explained playfully.

Jesse giggled and to Amanda, it was the very best sound in the world.

"That was scary," Jesse concluded, frowning.

"I know, baby. That's why you've always gotta wear your seatbelt like we tell you to all the time," Amanda said her gently. She leaned down again to take her daughter's chin between her fingers, looking her precious child in the eye. "Who loves you best?"

"Mama and daddy," Jesse gave her usual reply to the familiar question.

"For how long?" Sonny asked with faux curiosity.

Jesse spread her arms out wide, dramatic and comical. "Forever and ever."

* * *

Jesse was to remain at the hospital for two more hours of observation. If no complications arose, she could be discharged with no strenuous activity for the next week. Sonny's parents came by and after a great deal of fussing and crying, they took Luca back to their house given the late hour. Sonny's father would return to pick the three of them up once the doctors released Jesse.

While a nurse checked in on Jesse, Amanda headed to the cafeteria with Sonny for coffee and food. Jesse had been sick several times due to her condition and now she was understandably starving. With the adrenaline wearing off, Amanda was going to require caffeine, too.

In the elevator, Amanda wrapped her arms around Sonny's torso and he winced. "You okay?" she asked curiously, pulling back.

"Yeah. The steerin' wheel got me in the ribs," he said, a hand gingerly bracing his right side.

"You should have a doctor look at it," Amanda suggested.

"I'm not stayin' in this germ-filled hell any longer than I have to," he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes.

Between the cafeteria and the gift shop, they bought Jesse goldfish crackers and M&Ms. Amanda got a bag of Swedish Fish and coffee, because a wedding diet was irrelevant when your loved ones were nearly killed in a car accident. Back on the first floor, they walked back toward Jesse's room, but Amanda stopped in the hallway when she heard somebody familiar. She grabbed Sonny's arm to stop him, too, jerking her head to indicate that she wanted to eavesdrop on what was going on up by the check-in desk.

"Jesse Rollins. Is she here?" Declan's voice was loud and clear.

"I'm sorry, sir, but are you family?" a pleasant-sounding female replied.

"I'm her father," he insisted.

" _You're_ her father? I was certain her father was with her..." The woman was understandably confused.

Amanda and Sonny exchanged glances. When she looked up, Declan had seemingly spotted her and was closing the distance between them with quick, deliberate strides.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"She's in her room. She's okay," Amanda told him calmly.

Declan rounded on Sonny. "What the hell happened, Carisi?"

Amanda felt Sonny stiffen beside her. "A drunk guy ran a red light. He's in custody."

The lieutenant looked at Sonny as if he had two heads. "Two kids in the car and you weren't paying attention?"

Amanda hastily attempted to interject, "Declan, this had nothing to do with-"

"You're a police officer, Carisi," Declan interrupted her. "Haven't you driven enough squad cars to be able to navigate this stuff?"

"You're tryin' to say that I coulda avoided this?" Sonny asked, an irritable edge to his tone.

Declan's tone turned low, aggressive. "I'm trying to say that if you were even halfway competent then my daughter wouldn't be hospitalized."

"Your daughter, huh? As of what, last week?" Sonny scoffed bitterly.

She saw Declan's jaw twitch. He took a step closer to Sonny and said loudly, a threatening finger pointed at Sonny's chest, "you wanna play house with Amanda, go right ahead. Her crazy is all yours. But Jesse _is_ my daughter."

Amanda didn't even have the chance to be offended before a nurse appeared, looking annoyed. "You guys are gonna have to keep it down-"

Declan flashed his lieutenant's shield in response. The nurse rolled her eyes.

"Declan, don't do this here. Please," Amanda pleaded. "She's in three, right down the hall. Just... go see her and leave."

The lieutenant's stern gaze flickered between the two detectives as if he was weighing his options. After a terse moment of silence, he brushed past them roughly.

"I need some air," Sonny announced sharply before before walking away briskly in the opposite direction.

Left alone with Jesse's snacks and her coffee, Amanda shut her eyes. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be asleep next to Sonny, Luca cooing in his crib, Jesse drooling on her pillow, Frannie keeping watch over them all.

Instead, she had found herself right in the middle of two disasters that night.

* * *

"It's cold out here."

Amanda found Sonny outside on the sidewalk in front of the emergency room. He had been there for awhile. Head down, his hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans as he toed stray gravel with his sneaker. His posture almost made him look like a very tall teenager.

"It feels good," Sonny said.

"Brought you some to-go Purell." She tossed him the little bottle she had lifted from the nurses' station with a small, mischievous smile.

He caught it easily.

Arms crossed over her chest, Amanda walked over to him. "Murphy's gone."

He grunted. After a moment of contemplative silence, he looked at her. "Can I ask you something?"

She nodded. "'Course you can."

"What the hell did you ever see in him?"

Amanda hadn't anticipated Sonny's question. Now she was the one studying the cracks in the pavement, trying to figure out how to explain how Murphy had entered her life. If she was going to be honest, there wasn't a way to make it sound any less terrible than it really, truly was. Amanda had only eluded to the story in the past, never discussed it in detail. She wasn't exactly proud of it. "You really wanna know?"

"Yeah, I do."

She cringed, like she actually expected Sonny to change his mind. Amanda didn't want to relive that part of her life now, but she couldn't bring herself to keep Sonny at an arm's length under these circumstances. She exhaled audibly and watched traffic on the street ahead. "Before you came to SVU I kinda... got into some trouble," she began hesitantly. "I had been gambling at this illegal club in Hell's Kitchen. I was really behind. Like, twenty grand behind."

Sonny gave her a look like an exasperated parent who had heard one too many of their kid's excuses. Amanda ignored it.

"An old vic we'd worked with, she was there as a waitress and she made me for a cop. They thought I was wearin' a wire but really I was just... well, gambling, and they used that as blackmail. Murphy was UC, acting as the club's manager. I didn't know it until he told me in private. From that point forward I worked alongside him, played along, till he made his collar. Long story short, he saved my shield. He lied to everybody, most importantly to IAB and Liv... he told them all I was UC, too."

"I thought Liv was gonna kill me for going behind her back. She told me she would have transferred me if she could have, that she didn't trust me..." She shook her head, as if trying to rid herself of the memory. "Fin and Nick were so pissed because they felt betrayed that I didn't tell them I was doing that job. I didn't tell Fin the truth till a couple years later. Anyway, I looked like a jackass. I took a leave of absence. When I came back, everything was back to normal, for the most part. Declan was in and out of the city. Time passed, whatever. Then it was winter and I was lonely. I had disconnected from everybody, really, trying to start over. I invited him over one night during a terrible snowstorm and he actually came."

She shrugged, embarrassed. "He was kind to me. I know you've only seen him be a prick, but with me, he wasn't. I liked that he knew the worst of me and still felt like I was worthy of my job. I liked that he was powerful. So I made another dumb decision on top of all my others, except at least I got Jesse outta this one."

Sonny's eyebrows were raised. "That's quite the story, Rollins."

"It's the truth," Amanda promised him.

He nodded. "I know."

* * *

Sonny's mother was the most efficient woman on earth. When they arrived back at the Carisi household at one in the morning, she had the sheets pulled back on Jesse's usual bed, a Staten Island PD t-shirt laid out neatly for Amanda to sleep in in Sonny's room, and Luca was fed, bathed and sleeping in his crib.

Amanda took an especially long time tucking Jesse in. She was almost afraid to leave her, even though she knew she was safe. The fear of losing her was more upsetting to Amanda than the actual accident itself. Even when the little girl's eyes began to drift closed, she still watched her for awhile.

Eventually she quietly left to go to the bathroom, where she peeled off her shoes and clothes. Everything smelled like smoke and tar. She took a steaming hot shower, trying to scrub the events of the night off of her. The burn on her neck was red and angry; now that the chaos had subsided, she realized how badly it really stung.

Back in Sonny's room, Amanda pulled on the oversized t-shirt and roughly toweled off her wet hair while Sonny shed his clothes. When he pulled off his shirt, she gasped at the sight of his abdomen: he had a gigantic bruise standing out garishly against the skin of his right side.

"Sonny, that's really bad," Amanda exclaimed.

He winced. "It definitely doesn't feel good."

"You should see a doctor," she insisted, again.

"I probably broke a couple of ribs. You know they can't do anything for that," he replied, shaking his head.

Amanda sighed. She was too tired to argue and he was probably right.

In bed, Amanda was silently thankful for Sonny's mother, who had the softest, cleanest sheets she had ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. Gingerly, Sonny joined her in between them as he turned off the light. Amanda wasn't one for cuddling - she found it totally counterproductive when it came to actually falling asleep - but that night was different. Against his uninjured side, Amanda rested her head against Sonny's chest and her hand on his stomach.

She thought of their argument before the accident. God. She had never felt him, never seen him. She didn't know what his role was in her chaotic life. She never understood how Sonny could be so sure that he was present when such horrific things happened each day, all over, all of the time. What kind of savior would allow so much tragedy to exist, to persist?

Nobody had died that night.

Not even the drunk who had hit them.

Why?

The bedroom door creaked open and Jesse appeared, her little frame illuminated by the light in the hallway.

"Jesse? What's the matter? Are you okay?" Amanda asked anxiously, sitting up.

"Can I sleep with you?" the little girl asked.

She couldn't say 'no,' not that night. "Yeah, c'mon."

Jesse crawled onto the bed and settled beneath the covers between them, wriggling her body around until she was comfortable. Amanda laid down on her back and blinked up at the ceiling.

"Mama?" Jesse's voice broke the brief moment of silence.

"Hm?" Amanda replied.

"I can't shut my eyes."

"How come?"

"It's scary."

"You're safe now, Jess," Sonny promised her. He sounded tired.

"Why did that man do that?" Jesse asked curiously.

"I don't know," Amanda answered.

"He's a bad guy," the four-year-old declared.

"He made a really big mistake, Jesse," Sonny told her. "But people make mistakes and we gotta forgive them."

"Why?" Jesse rolled over to face him.

Sonny was quiet for a moment before concluding, "'cause that's what strong people do."


	35. Chapter 35

_Sonny had to pass the bar._

 _If he did not pass the bar, he would probably die._

 _He had studied for months. Before work, after work, at work. He should have bought stock in Excedrin Migraine, because every night his eyes were blurry and his skull was pounding as statutes and cases filled any available space in his brain. He would try to sleep but almost always woke up in a cold sweat after the same reoccurring nightmare: he was tirelessly searching for his I.D. number on the 'pass' list, nose practically pressed up against the computer screen, frantic - only to never find it._

 _He wished he hadn't told Amanda that today was the day the results came in. She was hovering, circling his desk like a shark in anticipation. Truthfully, Sonny had assumed that she wouldn't be all that interested; she didn't like lawyers much. Or at least, she didn't seem to care for Barba most of the time._

 _Sonny probably wouldn't have mentioned it to her, except that three days ago, they had slept together. Well, technically there was no sleeping involved. There wasn't even a bed: it took place on the couch in his studio apartment. Twice. It probably would have happened sooner, if he hadn't been dutifully married to his bar exam prep book. That particular night Amanda had showed up at his door with a notepad he had left at her house the week before. He was sort of embarrassed by what a disaster his apartment was, but not embarrassed enough not to invite her in. Then she kept doing that thing where she played with her lower lip, touching, tugging. It was so infuriatingly sexy that Sonny almost asked her to leave just as soon as she had walked in. But then she asked, 'whatcha doin'?' like she didn't know all he did was study and work, work and study. Then she kissed him._

 _He had kissed her once before when they were drunk. It was not romantic. She had kissed him back, until she shoved him away so hard that he was sure she had broken a rib. That was Amanda: hot and cold. Volatile._

 _This was not like that. This was mouths and hands and not enough air. This was too good to waste time moving the seven feet to his bed. For the past three days, Sonny had tried not to picture Amanda naked at work. It was a challenge._

 _Amanda was back at his desk again, over his shoulder as he logged in. His eyes nervously flickered across the screen; so many people had taken the exam when he had, it was a jumble of numbers. Nervously he wondered if Liv would give him the day off to drink if he failed._

 _Then he saw it: 732-346. He read it once, twice, three times. Was that really his I.D. number? Maybe he had mixed up the sequence, maybe he was looking at the 'fail' list instead..._

 _732-346._

 _"There it is," he blurted, pointing shakily to the screen._

 _"What?" Amanda asked anxiously._

 _"My I.D. number. It's on the pass list," he babbled, eyes wide with disbelief._

 _"You passed?" Fin sounded genuinely stunned._

 _"I passed. Oh my God," he exclaimed, flooded with relief._

 _He jumped up from his seat and hugged Amanda, because that was what he wanted to do. She squeezed him, clung to his arm even after they broke their embrace, grinning like she was proud._

 _If they hadn't been in the middle of the squad room, he would have kissed her._

 _Maybe later._

* * *

"It's about time somebody smashed that car. Now maybe One PP will give us a newer one."

Amanda rolled her eyes at Fin.

"What's on your neck? A hickey?" her partner continued, eyes bright with amusement over his beer bottle.

"No, Fin. It's from the airbag," Amanda grumbled from her seat at the bar.

"Is that what the kids call it these days?" Fin quipped.

"I'm just glad you're all okay," Liv said from the stool beside her. "Thank God, it could have been a lot worse."

 _Yes_ , Amanda thought. _Thank God._

* * *

"Stay still, Jesse. Please."

Jesse was standing in the middle of the Carisi's living room, wearing a pale pink dress with a fluffy skirt made of too much tulle. Amanda had let her daughter pick out whatever she wanted to wear for the wedding, no matter how ridiculous, and this was the result. It needed alterations, so Sonny's mother was pinning and measuring because of course she did tailoring, too.

"I am," Jesse insisted with a contradictory flail.

"No, you're wigglin' around like you're made of Jello," Amanda told her with a waggle of her eyebrows.

Jesse giggled.

"You know, Amanda..." Mrs. Carisi said from her spot kneeling on the floor. "I've been thinking a lot about what you asked me a couple weeks ago, about gettin' married in the church."

A wave of dread washed over her. "Oh?"

She secured the last pin. "Alright, Jesse, go change. Carefully," Mrs. Carisi directed the little girl, who obediently scampered away. She stood up, rolling up her measuring tape as she looked at Amanda. "I always assumed all my kids would get married in the church. I mean, that's just what you do. What we do."

Amanda tried not to cringe.

"But," Sonny's mother continued. "If God has taught me anything, it's that the way you live your day-to-day life speaks a lot louder than how many times you attend mass. You live your life well, Amanda. You're a great mother, a great police officer. You do whatever you have to do for your kids, for all those people you help at work. You and Sonny, you love one another and you take care of one another, even when it's hard. At the end of the day, _that's_ what matters to me. I would rather you two be happy and married by a Justice of the Peace than miserable and married in the church."

She took a step closer to Amanda and set a hand on her arm, smiling. "All I ask is that you give your kids the opportunity to participate in Catholicism, so one day they can choose whether or not they want be a part of it. And if they choose not to, then we'll love them just the same, just how we love you."

Amanda felt her throat tighten with emotion. She was relieved, she was grateful. All she could do was nod in agreement, but that was enough for Mrs. Carisi.

Amanda, just as she was, was enough.

* * *

"Amanda, I don't think I can watch this."

On a Wednesday night, Amanda was curled up on the couch next to Sonny, remote in her hand. "Oh, come on."

"Every episode of Catfish is the same," he insisted.

"It is not!" she protested passionately.

"Yeah, it is. A loser kid thinks he's found true love with some mega-babe online and after three years of text messagin' and weird e-sex he finally gets suspicious that _maybe_ the chick isn't real," he explained sarcastically, waving his beer bottle around as he spoke.

She laughed. "Sometimes they _are_ real."

"The hot ones?"

"Well, no, usually not the hot ones..."

"My point exactly."

"It relaxes me," Amanda concluded dramatically.

He heaved a sigh.

She grinned at him before planting a kiss on his cheek. The moments when they were both home at the same time during the week were rare. As winter melted into spring, SVU became progressively busier. Two nights ago, Amanda had been called out of a dead sleep to rush to Bellevue. Before that, Sonny had worked fourteen hours straight. It was really no different than what their job typically demanded of them, but occasionally Amanda yearned for just a bit more normalcy. Then again, the benign had never really suited her.

Amanda loved listening to Sonny's color commentary when he agreed to watch whatever she had on: it often vacillated between sarcastic and judgmental to genuinely confused. Sonny pretended to dislike MTV, E! and Bravo, but she had caught him watching it once or twice when he thought she wouldn't notice. Usually, though, if he had the remote, it was sports or the History Channel - the former she enjoyed, the latter put her straight to sleep. He had tried his hardest to get her engaged around World War II documentaries and presidential biopics, but Amanda just couldn't muster up the enthusiasm.

When the doorbell buzzed, she didn't tear her eyes away from the screen.

"You expectin' somebody?" Sonny asked curiously.

"This guy I've been talking to online..." she joked.

Sonny stood up. "Yeah, okay. Whose picture did you use?"

Mouth falling open in mock indignation, Amanda hurled a pillow at him as he walked toward the front door.

Gaze turned back toward the television, she became reabsorbed in the barely-there plot. She couldn't believe people still fell for this stuff - were they really that desperate for love? In a way, it was sort of sad...

"Uh, Amanda?" Sonny's voice rose over the show's dialogue.

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Shh. This is the best part," Amanda said. "They're just about to-"

When she looked over at him, she stopped mid-sentence. He was standing in their living room with her mother.

Jumping to her feet, Amanda demanded, "mom? What the hell are you doing here?"

Beth Anne Rollins offered her a weak smile. "You can't hang up on me in person."

"Why are you here?" Amanda asked angrily. She didn't like surprises, especially when it came to her mother.

"I wanted to talk to you," Beth Anne explained, appearing nervous.

Sonny began to inch his way out of the living room. "I'm just gonna go-"

"No, Sonny. You stay," Beth Anne insisted.

"You can't just show up here," Amanda said irritably, ignoring Sonny.

"Will you just give me a few minutes? Please?" her mother pleaded.

She clenched her jaw before dropping back down on the couch, arms crossed over her chest like a petulant teenager. Sonny sat beside her, appearing profoundly uncomfortable.

Beth Anne took a careful seat in an arm chair, her purse resting atop her lap. "Kim told me about the accident. I'm glad y'all are okay."

Amanda glared at her.

"Anyway, I just... I'm all broken up about our conversation awhile ago. I can't stop thinking about it. I... I'm sorry, Amanda."

"You're sorry? For which part?" she snapped.

"For all of it. I wasn't... the best mama to you and Kim. I let some terrible things happen to you, I know. And I know you think I don't remember it, but I do." She inched forward on her chair, leaning in. "I'll never forget when I was datin' that guy Dave and he was getting rough. You came right into the living room, your hair in pigtails, wearin' this scowl... you said, 'you touch my mama again, I'll blow your kneecaps off.' You were nine years old with a squirrel gun in your hand. _Nine years old_. I think about that all the time."

Amanda could feel Sonny's eyes on her. He was horrified. She figured it was safe to assume that he had never had to brandish a firearm as a child.

"You always tried to protect everybody," Beth Anne continued. "But I should have been protecting you."

"Yeah, you should have," she agreed briskly. "You can't go back in time, though. So, what do you want? I'm not really in the mood for a trip down memory lane, mama," she added sharply, sarcastically.

Her mother winced. "I know I can't, I know. You and me, we've never had the best relationship-"

"Because you're selfish and critical," Amanda interrupted, sitting up straighter like she might pounce on Beth Anne.

"Amanda," Sonny murmured, setting a calming hand on her thigh.

"I deserve that. But you said if I was better, that I could be a part of your life. I guess bein' critical is kinda my defense mechanism. Keep talkin' about you so you don't get the chance to mention anything about me, that sorta thing. I know you think it doesn't bother me, but it does. It does bother me when you never come back to Georgia, when you don't answer my calls, when you mention things I've done..."

Amanda narrowed her eyes. "Good, I'm glad it bothers you. It should."

Beth Anne nodded solemnly. "I know. I want to try to work on things, though, if you'll let me. I don't wanna miss your wedding. I wanna see my grandbabies grow up. You and Kim, you're all I've got."

There was a sincerity in her mother's voice that Amanda had never heard before. Still, she was skeptical. Much like with Kim, there had been too many years of disappointment for Amanda to take stock in words - it was action that counted. "So... what?"

"I'm gonna be in town for a few days. Kim tells me she's in school now, she wants to show me around campus. So maybe you and me, we could get lunch. Really talk about stuff," Beth Anne suggested.

She exhaled. "Maybe."

"Well, that's not a 'no,' so I'll take it," Beth Anne replied with a small smile. She turned to Sonny. "You're a good man, Sonny. I always hoped my girls would find somebody like you, somebody opposite of the men I picked. I didn't set a very good example, but luckily Amanda has always gone her own way."

Nobody said anything until Beth Anne stood up to go, then Sonny offered, "let me walk you out."

"I'll call you tomorrow, alright, Amanda?" her mother called to her as they moved toward the front door.

"Uh huh," Amanda mumbled, alone on the couch.

When Sonny returned, he immediately voiced his biggest concern: "you threatened to shoot somebody with a squirrel gun?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes shut. "It's the south, Sonny."

"Well... are you gonna do it? Meet up with her?" he asked anxiously, sitting back down beside her.

"I don't know."

"I think you should."

Eyes open again, she challenged him. " _Why?_ "

Sonny turned to look at her. "Because I think you've been waitin' your whole life for her to get over herself and apologize to you, and she just did it."

"Maybe," Amanda mumbled stubbornly.

"You should go," Sonny insisted. "Just don't bring your gun to lunch."


	36. Chapter 36

**AN:** The wedding is approaching! Which means the **last** chapter will be up by the end of the week... waaaah! So sad, they are like my little pets. I could probably be convinced to write more, though, 'cause I'm a sucker.

* * *

 _Sonny strode back into the precinct with traces of blood still on his face._

 _At her desk, Amanda cast a furtive glance around the squad room. Everybody was talking about what had just taken place with retired Sargent Tom Cole. She hadn't been there to witness it, but she had encountered the aftermath. Amanda had tried her best to stay professional: to tell Liv that IAB was prepared to take her statement, to make sure Quinn got to the hospital, to communicate with her family. She went through the motions of good police work, but her heart was gripped tight with lingering anxiety._

 _A SWAT officer on the radio had told her - told them all - that Sonny had been inside the house with a gun to his head. Amanda was momentarily breathless with fear until another voice confirmed that both the detective and lieutenant had emerged unharmed. Liv had spectacular aim: she fatally shot Cole just in time._

 _Amanda was motionless as the precinct moved around her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sonny wander from the bathroom to the bunk room. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she felt a powerful urge to be next to him._

 _She had found herself within an inch of her life once, too._

 _Holden March. She would never forget it: Nick handcuffed and helpless, Amanda left to try to disarm somebody who she considered to be a very sick kid. One wrong move, one poorly worded statement, and he could have killed her. She remembered the way her heart pounded in her ears, how adrenaline had her feeling dizzy and light, sharper than usual. She remembered how Holden moved toward her, moth drawn to a flame, visibly conflicted by his desire for her affection and his passionate mistrust of women. Most of all, Amanda remembered her own, private terror._

 _She scurried into the bunk room. Sonny was alone, using a dingy locker mirror to rub off the rest of the blood with a damp towel. He was still in his NYPD jacket and vest, like he was too distracted to remember to take it off. She couldn't blame him._

 _Closing the door behind her, Amanda rushed to his side. "What the hell happened in there? Are you okay?"_

 _"Yeah, I'm fine," he told her, voice low. His hand was trembling as he scrubbed at his eyebrow._

 _"You've got somebody's brains all over you. You aren't fine," she whispered._

 _"Yeah, well, it coulda been my own brains if it wasn't for Liv," Sonny murmured flatly, blue-gray eyes flickering over her face._

 _Amanda swallowed over the lump in her throat, quiet for a moment. Then she hugged him, arms circling his torso beneath his coat, cheek resting against the rough exterior of his bullet proof vest and the cool metal of his badge. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to come to terms with the emotions swirling around inside of her like a storm: fear, panic, empathy, worry..._

 _Love._

 _Amanda loved him._

 _If he had died, she was certain that a piece of her would fall away, too._

 _She would not be able to look at his desk, at his name in her phone, at the notes he sometimes scrawled for her when he left her apartment early in the morning._

 _She would not be able to appreciate the wrinkles that creased around his eyes when he smiled or the practiced way he did up his tie in the mirror._

 _She would not hear his laugh, smell his cologne, eat the dinner he insisted on cooking for her._

 _He would be reduced to a memory, a plaque on the precinct wall that people one day forgot to dust._

 _Sonny Carisi deserved so much more than that. Amanda could only hope that she was worthy._

* * *

Amanda did, in fact, bring her gun to lunch, but only because she was taking a break from work. She knew she looked tired: not only had she been called in at four in the morning, she had also barely slept prior to that. She anticipated her mother making a smart remark about the bags beneath her daughter's eyes; Amanda wasn't convinced that she could help herself.

She spotted Beth Anne at a table at Serafina, perfectly poised in her chair, waiting. Approaching her, her mother smiled. She didn't get up, though, most likely assuming that Amanda wasn't going to hug her. She had assumed correctly.

"Mama," Amanda murmured in acknowledgement, taking off her jacket before sitting down.

"Hi. Your morning busy?" her mother asked her brightly.

"Yeah. I've been on since four a.m."

"Oh, that's awful. You want a drink?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm on the job."

"Oh, right. Well, thanks for meetin' me."

She nodded.

"I just... I wanted to explain some things."

Amanda sighed.

Beth Anne leaned over the table, voice lowered. "I don't even know where to begin... I guess, I... I'll never forgive myself for what I put you kids through," she began carefully. "Your father and I, we were a mess, but we weren't always that way. I don't give him enough credit, but before he started gamblin', he was such a funny, hard-workin' guy. When you were born, he thought you were just about the best thing he'd ever laid eyes on."

Amanda bowed her head, fingers fiddling with the silverware.

"I wish it had stayed that way. I know you didn't see it all, Amanda, but you have to believe me: he could be really nasty when he gambled and lost, or when he owed money. He never set a finger on you or Kim, thank God, but it wasn't like that with me. When he was in a bad mood, he got this look in his eye..." She shook her head, appearing pained. "I got in his way. I nagged him. I spent the money we didn't have. He hated that. I know you and Kim heard the names he called me. I wish that had been the worst of it..."

"You idolized him, Amanda. He was your hero. In a weird way, I envied your relationship with him. He was so sweet to you and so damn awful to me." Her mother gave a sad little laugh. "Pretty pathetic, isn't it? Jealous of your own kid. Even later on when you were up to your eyeballs in your gamblin' - the gamblin' you learned from him - you still defended him. That hurt me."

She swallowed. "Mama, I didn't know..."

Beth Anne shook her head, wordlessly interrupting her. "You didn't know because I didn't tell you." She sighed. "See, Amanda, I didn't grow up thinkin' I was capable of much other than being pretty. When your father finally left, I felt like in order to support you kids, I had to find somebody else. I wasn't like you, Amanda. You set your mind on something and you did it. You wanted to go to college and then become a police officer and you did it, just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis. "Kim was more like me. That's why we got along so well."

"All those men you brought around... they hurt you, mama. They hurt us. You knew they were bad news. How could you keep doing it?" she whispered, feeling strangely vulnerable.

"I wanted it to be different so badly. I just kept hopin' one day one of them - your daddy included - would change and be good, good for all of us," she explained weakly. "I'd gotten myself into all these messes, I didn't know how to tell anybody that, how to ask for help. I was embarrassed. It wasn't easy, Amanda, in such a small town with everybody nosin' around all the time."

Suddenly, Sonny's voice filled Amanda's head: ' _sometimes it's not as easy as you think to be a hero.'_

She hadn't thought of that conversation in a long time, but now it was at the forefront of her mind. All those years of turmoil and abuse, all of the times Amanda had begged her mother to change something, she never considered that Beth Anne simply _couldn't._ She had been aware but rendered helpless; the grit and fortitude that Amanda possessed didn't run naturally through her mother's veins.

Beth Anne sat across from her, blinking, looking like deer caught in headlights. All the venom was out of her stare; she just appeared desperate.

Remorse squeezed at Amanda's heart, dislodging the icy armor that had formed there.

She had needed this.

* * *

Sonny thought baths were a waste of time, but Amanda liked them.

To her, it was relaxing, sitting in hot water and bubbles, everything quiet. She didn't have much time to do it lately, but after her day at work and an emotional lunch with her mother, she needed it. With Jesse and Luca asleep and the baby monitor on the bathroom counter, Amanda clipped her hair atop her head and ran the water.

Sinking her naked form into the suds, she sighed, tense muscles loosening in the warmth. In her wildest dreams, Amanda owned a home that had a claw-foot tub. She thought they were timeless, romantic. She imagined being surrounded by marble counter tops and bronze hardware, everything shiny and clean. Ever the realist, she knew that, of course, would remain a domestic fantasy. They would never be able to afford to buy anything in New York City, not on two detectives' salaries, with Sonny's law school loans and the debts she was still paying to bookies. It occurred to Amanda that she had never lived in an actual _house_ before - and maybe she never would.

Amanda's gaze flickered to the baby monitor. Sonny was home: his lanky frame appeared on the screen, hovering lovingly over Luca sleeping in his bassinet in the living room. She smiled. She would take Sonny Carisi over a house any day. Closing her eyes again, she leaned her head back against the tiles, listening to Sonny's footsteps creaking the wooden floor panels as he moved around the apartment. While she had worked early, he had gone in later, and she imagined that by now that he was tired.

She had left the door cracked, and soon it inched open further, Sonny peeking in at her. She opened one eye to look at him. He had changed into a Mets t-shirt and sweatpants, hair still perfect and watch on his wrist. "Hi."

"Am I interruptin' something?" he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You wish," Amanda replied with a smirk.

He slid his lean frame inside the bathroom, closed the toilet seat and sat on the edge of it. "How was it?"

She shrugged, the movement causing tiny bubbles to rise up from the larger ones surrounding her. She could have told Sonny that lunch was 'fine,' but that wouldn't have been true. "Sad," she answered. His unwavering commitment to honesty was finally wearing off on her.

"Whaddya mean?"

"Just... I never thought about what life was like for my mom. Her side of things, I guess. I always wanted to believe my dad was good and mama was the crazy one. And I mean, don't get me wrong, she _is_ crazy, but... not without reason."

Sonny looked at her in silence, giving her the space to keep going.

"Remember when we worked that case, with that kid on the hockey team?" Amanda asked, toying with some suds.

"Kyle Turner," Sonny answered easily. Of course he remembered. Amanda knew that he had lost sleep over that case.

"Yeah. And you and me, we had that argument about his mom. I thought she was to blame for quietly standing by, lettin' her kids get pummeled by the dad, you disagreed. You said she was a victim, too. That saying something wasn't always easy."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"I guess... my mom didn't know how to stand up to my dad. Or any other man. She didn't want us to get hurt, but she couldn't get outta her own way to ask for help."

"Sounds like you had a productive lunch," Sonny remarked simply.

Amanda leaned forward and pulled the stopper from the drain. "It answered a lot of questions."

Sonny stood up and grabbed her a towel, which she stepped into gratefully. Outside of the tub, she tucked the fluffy fabric around her body, holding it in place loosely with her hand. Rising up on her toes, she kissed him.

When he pulled back, Sonny said, "You look..."

She quirked a curious eyebrow, wordlessly encouraging him to complete his observation.

"Lighter," Sonny concluded.

She smiled. She felt that way, too.

* * *

"'At playtime she twirled and spun across the playground so fast that none of the little boys in her class could catch her and they were all very cross,'" Amanda read one of Jesse's favorite stories, _Angelina Ballerina,_ as they sat together in her bed.

"What's 'cross' mean?" Jesse asked from her mother's lap.

"Mad," Amanda answered.

"Boys are dumb," the four-year-old sighed.

"Jesse, that's not nice," Amanda laughed, more amused than upset. "Your brother's a boy. So's dad."

"Oh." She wriggled in Amanda's embrace, small fingers pulling at her mother's ring. "Very sparkly."

"I know, huh?"

"Can I have one?"

"Not for a very long time"

"Can I marry dad?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because he's marrying me."

"Oh."

"You'll be there, though. At the a party. That's why we got you that pretty dress."

She looked up at Amanda with big eyes. "Is gramma coming?"

Amanda nodded."Yeah, she'll be there, too."

* * *

"Sonny, you stand there," the wedding coordinator instructed. "No, not like that."

"What? This is how I stand," Sonny replied, appearing genuinely confused beneath the lush ivy arch on the Stone Mill patio.

"Get your hands out of your pockets," his mother ordered from a near-by seat, holding Luca in her lap.

"I don't know what else to do with them!" Sonny yelped. "And now you're all lookin' at me like I stand funny."

"Amanda, are you absolutely positive that you wanna marry this guy?" Fin murmured to his blonde partner from the other end of the patio.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Don't make me think too hard about it, Fin."

It was an unseasonably warm Friday evening in April and everything smelled like spring. Amanda wore a simple, cream-colored shift to the rehearsal that night. The dress was short, with subtle embroidered flowers barely standing out against the fabric, an intentional but quiet nod to the scenery.

Gathering everyone to practice a fifteen minute ceremony had proven to be a lot like herding cats. Kim babbled, Jesse wandered, Joe and Sonny horsed around like twelve-year-olds. Luca was passed from Mrs. Carisi to Liv back to Amanda again. She and Sonny's friends tittered excitedly in their seats, Beth Anne made occasional noises of approval - or lack thereof. Sonny's sisters talked over one another incessantly and Dominick Sr. looked something between amused and tortured as he hovered near by. Fin, cool and composed, did just what he was told.

Nothing about this was real to Amanda yet.

"Okay, now, Amanda. You come down the aisle," the wedding coordinator called. When Amanda and Fin walked arm-in-arm, she added, "slowly, it's not a race."

"Don't worry, Fin doesn't do anything fast," Liv quipped from one of the neatly arranged chairs. She wasn't part of the ceremony, but neither were Sonny's sisters or their friends, and they were all there watching eagle-eyed, opinions at the ready.

Jesse was standing by Kim to one side beneath the arch, until she dropped to her knees to pick something up off the ground, dirtying her dress in the process.

"No, Jesse, you've got to stand up for this part," Kim told her niece.

"Look at this flower I found!" Jesse exclaimed, holding up the tiniest dandelion between two fingers for everyone to see.

Kim gently took her little arm and pulled her back to her feet. Once at the end of the short, makeshift aisle, Amanda shot her daughter a playfully warning look, which Jesse responded to by obediently straightening up.

"Okay, so, you two will face each other. Come on now, look like you like one another," the wedding coordinator grabbed Amanda's upper arms and turned her to face Sonny, then tugged on the sleeve of Sonny's jacket to angle him precisely, too. "There, that's good."

Amanda smiled at Sonny. Nope, this still wasn't real.

"Okay, so then the J.P. will say his thing, then the 'I do's', and your vows. Sonny, you'll read yours first and then Amanda, you'll say yours," the coordinator explained. She was beaming with enthusiasm like it was her own wedding. "Then you'll exchange rings, and the J.P. will say a little more, and then you kiss, of course. Then you walk back down the aisle and everybody is happy and we all get to start drinking. Easy enough, right?"

* * *

"I cannot believe mama got you two whole nights here!" Kim exclaimed, dramatically flopping on one of the double beds in their hotel room.

"Me neither." Amanda emerged from the bathroom, fresh-faced and ready to pretend to sleep.

The room she was sharing with Kim at Lotte New York after the rehearsal dinner was beautiful - and far too large for just two people. That was her mother, though: frivolous and over-the-top. Fifteen minutes away from the Botanical Gardens, it was a stunning place for everyone to get ready before the wedding tomorrow. After the reception, there was a room for she and Sonny reserved, too. Beth Anne had arranged it months ago, even though she and her daughter hadn't been speaking at the time. It was a totally unexpected gesture that meant a lot to Amanda.

Kim sat up suddenly, legs crossed. "Hey, 'Manda?"

She pulled back the sheets of her bed. It was unfortunate that she most likely wouldn't close her eyes that night, because she was certain the mattress was heavenly. "Yeah?"

Her sister tucked long strands of hair behind her ears. "Can I sleep with you? You know, like we did when we were kids?"

Amanda smiled. "'When we were kids?' We had to share a bed till I was _thirteen_ ," she recalled. She slid beneath the covers and patted the space beside her. "But yeah, sure."

Kim positioned her thin frame next to her sister's, stretching her long limbs out in each direction. "Are you nervous?"

"Terrified," she admitted, turning the light off. The city glowed outside of their floor-to-ceiling windows.

"You're gonna do great. You're good at everything you do."

"This is pretty important."

"Like, the most important day of your life, probably."

On her back, Amanda cast a sideways glance at Kim. As her younger sister blinked up at the ceiling, Amanda studied her profile in the dark: high cheek bones, button nose, shaggy bangs that fell over her eyes. Kim's impish features were almost timeless - she looked the same now as she did when she was sixteen years old.

"Kim?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really proud of you, you know," Amanda said.

"For what?" Kim sounded confused.

"For... turning things around."

"Oh, yeah. Lithium's a real wonder drug, y'know?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's more than the meds, Kim."

"You gettin' sappy on me, 'Manda?" Kim giggled.

"Kinda, yeah," she admitted.

Kim nestled herself into Amanda's side, arms and legs wrapping around her in an over-exaggerated, sideways hug.

Amanda kissed her little sister's hair and squeezed her shoulders, whispering confidently, "you're gonna be okay, Kim."

She could hear the smile in Kim's voice as she murmured in return, "so are you."


	37. Chapter 37

**AN:** Here it is! The big day! Also, this seems like the appropriate time to mention that the title of this fic is named after Emeli Sande's song (called "Breathing Underwater," duh), which I feel very much fits Amanda and Sonny's relationship now. Give it a listen! It's a special occasion, after all. :-)

* * *

She was going to vomit.

Amanda tossed the sheets off of her in the dark, sprinting into the palatial bathroom. Door closed, she flipped on the light. Her reflection stared back at her from three separate, giant mirrors: her bangs stuck up in every direction, her t-shirt was wrinkled and all of the color had drained from her face. She looked like somebody waiting to be executed, not about to be married.

She pulled in a few shaky breaths to fend off the anxiety that had gripped her stomach. She sat down on the cool marble floor, back leaned against a wall. The bathroom was bigger than her first apartment in New York City; she could probably make herself pretty comfortable there. As she closed her eyes and distracted her mind from what was imminent, the nausea passed, but the apprehension didn't.

Chaotic, flighty Amanda never imagined she would be here.

She thought about Nick. Handsome, strong, aggressive. Even when he was still married, she had caught him watching her. All he had to do was glance in her direction and she would feel a flush creep up her chest and neck, standing out against pale skin like a pink invitation. He would piss her off just to see her passionate and undone and she fell for it every time. The only way she ever had control was when she was naked or in trouble: those were the two scenarios that never failed to get Nick Amaro's heart racing, and Amanda had been both of those things - often.

Nate Davis. He was somebody Amanda would have gladly punched in the face if she hadn't been so desperate for guidance. He listened to her, normalized her experiences - he even loaned her money. She hated it all. She hated that he always eyed her with that self-righteous, holier-than-thou expression of his. She hated that people fell all over him just because he was sober, as if he deserved a parade for being a functioning member of society. She hated that he made a pass at her to put another notch in his bedpost and she was vulnerable enough to mistake it for genuine affection. Most of all, Amanda hated that he had made her look like a fool.

Declan was the misstep she was the most proud of, only because it had produced Jesse. Otherwise, he symbolized the lowest period in her life. Amanda's cheeks still burned with shame when she thought of the things she did, the lives she put in danger - all because she had wanted to gamble. No, she _needed_ to, and she had become so powerless over her addiction that she had found herself within an inch of losing her job, her home, her beloved Frannie, her freedom. Declan had borne witness to it all and still protected her. Saved her. His power had been intoxicating.

Those men had all passed through her life, leaving Amanda behind.

Those men had all made space for Sonny Carisi.

Opening her eyes, Amanda smiled.

Marrying Sonny was not a risk, not some tenuous coupling that she would have to work to keep in one piece. It was certain, a sure thing amid the sea of past unknowns that she used to drown in. Amanda may have been nervous, but for once, her head was definitely above water.

* * *

When Beth Anne Rollins showed up at her room with provisions from the hotel bar, Amanda was immensely grateful.

The ceremony was at five, but there was a lot to be done before then. Kim had started the day by ordering an unbelievable amount of room service: eggs made every which way, Belgian waffles, fruit, two types of potatoes, bacon... it was truly an impressive display. Then again, Kim had always been an expert at spending other people's money and it showed as she enthusiastically moved from plate to plate. Amanda, on the other hand, only ate a piece of toast.

Amanda's friend from college, Grace, was charged with doing hair and make-up. Soon Sonny's three sisters filled the hotel room, shrieking with excitement in a swirl of hair spray and pressed powder. Amanda didn't need to talk when they were around - they did enough of it on their own - and that was a relief. She would get made up last, so for now she simply watched from her spot on the plush couch.

"Here, you need this." Her mother shoved a giant 7 and 7 in Amanda's direction.

For once, she was appreciative of Beth Anne's undying love of alcohol. "Thanks, mama," Amanda murmured as she took the glass from her. When she sipped, her face scrunched up in response to the powerfully bitter burn of liquor. "How much whiskey is in this?"

"Just enough," her mother assured her vaguely from over the rim of her own beverage. "The bubbles will settle your stomach."

Amanda quirked a skeptical eyebrow; her mother wasn't exactly known for her sound medical advice. But she needed the liquid courage, so she wasn't going to argue. She took a gulp, then another, eager for the calm it would bring.

There was a knock at the door and her mother ran to get it, stepping over stray shoe boxes and discarded clothing in the process. She had been almost obnoxiously helpful all day, but at least she wasn't making everything about her for once. That was progress.

"Look who I found!" Beth Anne said cheerfully when she reappeared, walking back inside the suite with Audrey, Jesse and Luca in tow.

A smile broke across Amanda's features as she stood up to greet them. Setting down her drink, she took Luca from Audrey's arms and squeezed him close, simultaneously laying a hand atop Jesse's head. Their presence was immediately more relaxing than the drink her mother had made her. "Hi guys," she said. She kissed the side of the baby's cheek, "hi, sweet boy."

"Can I put my dress on now?" Jesse asked curiously. "I took a bath and I have clean hands." She held her palms up as evidence.

"Not just yet. Soon," her grandmother promised her.

Jesse wandered over to Gina, who was expertly applying her own lipstick after the rest of her make-up was finished. "Can I have some of that?" Jesse asked her eagerly, eyes wide as she crowded Gina's side.

"That's for big girls, Jesse," Amanda explained.

"You said _I_ was a big girl," her daughter challenged her.

Amanda rolled her eyes.

"Uh... here, maybe a different color. Red doesn't match your dress," Gina said quickly, digging through her purse. She pulled out a sheer pink lip gloss. "This is perfect."

"Yeah, that," Jesse agreed excitedly. "Can I have that, mama?"

"A little bit," Amanda agreed begrudgingly.

For the next two hours, the little girl occupied herself by going through Gina's cosmetics bag. Thankfully, Sonny's sisters were accustomed to having to entertain children. With Audrey, Beth Anne and Kim as back up, too, Amanda could take her eye off of both Jesse and Luca.

When it was Amanda's turn to get her hair and make-up done, she was two drinks in and feeling better. She trusted Grace: they had known each other for twelve years, and even though they lived in different states, they remained close. She knew that Amanda wasn't one for glitter or over-the-top glamour, which was a relief. Amanda had purposefully let her hair grow a little longer than usual so Grace could style it in loose waves. Her friend pulled half of it back, pinning it carefully around Amanda's simple chapel-length veil and allowing blonde tendrils to fall around Amanda's face. She kept her make-up clean, too, with a golden highlight brushed across her cheek bones and dark, feathery eyelashes. When she was finished, she painted a soft peach color across Amanda's lips. Grace worked with the sort of precision and expertise that Amanda never possessed; she was usually half-asleep when she jabbed herself with mascara each morning, even before she had had children.

"You look great, Mandy, if I do say myself," Grace announced proudly, handing Amanda a mirror to assess her work. "If you cry, that mascara ain't going anywhere."

"I'm not gonna cry," Amanda insisted stubbornly, eyeing her reflection. Careful fingers reached up and touched a loose curl, as if she couldn't believe it was attached to her head. Is this what she could look like if she put more effort into her appearance like her mother was always nagging her to? Smiling, Amanda looked up at her friend. "Thank you. I seriously can't believe I look like this."

"I can," Grace insisted with a grin before she assaulted her with setting spray.

Amanda's dress hung up, perfectly steamed, waiting for her. Below it sat her shoes: a pair of ivory peep-toe heels. It wasn't until the very last minute that she slipped into it all, Kim helping her balance, her mother arranging fabric against her daughter's body. Tailoring and a bit of dieting meant the dress slid over her form perfectly, as if it had been made for her.

When Amanda saw herself in the mirror, she couldn't believe the woman standing there. She looked taller than usual, sleek. Her waist was defined, accentuating just enough of her hips. The subtle sheen of the ivory fabric made her arms and the bit of bare leg that peeked out from the slit of the dress look almost _tan_ in comparison. She turned around and glanced over her slim shoulder and was pleased to see her ass looked pretty damn great, too.

She felt beautiful. Amanda had felt pretty or sexy before, but rarely _beautiful,_ because beautiful was different. It was something that came from within and radiated outward, no matter the clothes (or lack thereof). No, she may not have experienced it often, but Amanda was certain that in that moment, it was staring right back at her.

* * *

Amanda was escorted to a private room in the Stone Mill as if she was made of glass. Every effort was made to preserve her dress, hair and make-up - and rightfully so, since it had taken a lot of time and energy to get her looking like she had simply woken up that way. Sonny's sisters and Grace dispersed, Audrey took the baby, and Amanda's mother waited until the very last minute to air-kiss her oldest daughter goodbye.

Alone with Kim and Jesse, Amanda could feel her heart pounding against her rib cage. The only person she ever wanted to be around when she was this nervous was Sonny, but she hadn't seen him since the brief moments they had stolen together after the rehearsal dinner. She suppressed the urge to chew at her thumb nail, hands thankfully occupied by her bouquet: a loose combination of White Ranunculus, Anemone and Lilac, with Queen Anne's Lace and Jasmine nestled in between.

There was a knock on the door before it creaked open, revealing Fin, dressed sharply in his suit and tie. Perpetually casual except when he had to be in court, it was nice to see him put together. Even if he had shown up in a sweatshirt, Amanda still would have been relieved to be in his presence: he was familiar, comforting and he never, ever panicked.

"Wow. Look at you. You look great," Fin exclaimed, sounding surprised. She could have sworn his eyes were shining.

"Fin, are you crying?" Amanda asked, grinning.

"What? No. I'm allergic to... your flowers," he told her hastily with a chuckle.

"Uh huh."

He hugged her. It was a warm, sturdy embrace - the type Amanda imagined a father would give.

"What's up, little J?" Fin greeted Jesse when he pulled away from Amanda, ruffling the little girl's hair. "Kim, you clean up nice," he added to her sister.

"So do you," Kim retorted playfully.

The wedding coordinator, the ever-enthusiastic Evelyn, appeared. "Oh, good, we're all here," she observed, clasping her hands together in approval. "Amanda, you look stunning," she murmured before turning to the other three. "Kim? Jesse? You guys ready?"

"We're ready!" Kim chirped.

"Ready for what?" Jesse asked innocently.

"To walk down the aisle, silly," Kim reminded her.

"Alright, Jesse, remember: no running. Stand up straight," Amanda instructed her daughter.

"I _know_ ," she answered her mother.

"Keep your hands to yourself. Listen to your aunt," Amanda went on.

Jesse rolled her eyes like an irritated teenager. "I _knooow_ , mama."

She squeezed her little hand before letting it go. "Love you, baby."

"Love you, too, mama."

Jesse had no idea. She had no idea that her birth had changed the course of her mother's life forever, had brought her to this very point. She owed so much of her happiness to Jesse and one day, when she was older, Amanda would proudly let her know it. For now, though, the four-year-old was simply thrilled to be in a pretty dress among a seemingly endless amount of flowers.

When she and Fin were alone, Amanda looked over at her partner, stomach flip-flopping.

Her nerves must have been written all over her face, because Fin waved a dismissive hand and declared casually, "you're fine, Amanda. You've done way tougher things than this. This? This is easy."

Amanda pulled in a deep breath. When it came right down to it, it _was_ easy: loving Sonny had always been simple. All the pomp and circumstance couldn't negate that. When it was all over, they would still have each other. She nodded.

"You ready?" Evelyn asked brightly, appearing in the doorway again.

That was a loaded question.

Amanda linked her arm with Fin's. Instinctively, she reached a hand up to her collarbone to feel for her little gold necklace, fingers tugging at the spear charm there, the one Sonny had gotten fixed after it had been violently broken. She smiled: over time, he had put so much more than just that chain back together.

Arm-in-arm, she and Fin walked into the foyer. The large french doors were draped in curtains, preventing her from seeing outside as they waited at the threshold. Evelyn expertly fixed the fabric at the hem of her dress; it pooled around her feet perfectly, just like it had when Amanda's eyes had first spotted it on display in SoHo.

"Fin?" Amanda whispered.

She felt him look over at her. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Fin cleared his throat. "Don't say anything else. The flowers... they're gettin' to me again."

As if by magic, the big doors swung open to reveal the patio. White chairs were lined neatly on either side of the aisle, all of them filled, everyone standing up in anticipation. The sun had begun to dip lower in the sky but was still shining, the new spring greenery lush and bright around them. Amanda barely noticed any of the meticulous details, like the beautifully designed archway, the perfectly placed lanterns, the music or the quiet rushing of the Bronx river. She only noticed Sonny, who stood tall and handsome, waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Long limbs and lean muscle swathed in a perfectly-tailored three-piece suit, hair effortlessly swept back, he looked as if he had been transported right out of a glossy GQ advertisement. But he hadn't, he was just Sonny, and he was hers.

It was the longest walk of Amanda's life. Sonny was watching her as if she was the greatest thing he had ever laid eyes on; he looked awestruck, breathless. Or maybe that was her - she couldn't quite seem to pull in an adequate amount of air. Giving Fin a hug before he took his seat, Amanda felt Kim fuss with the hem of her dress and her veil, arranging the fabric artfully on the ground at her sister's feet. Amanda stood in front of Sonny just the way she had been told, the Justice of the Peace glancing, grinning, between them.

Amanda met Sonny's gaze.

"Rollins," Sonny murmured with a little nod, blue eyes shining with private mischief.

She smiled so widely it hurt her face. "Carisi," she acknowledged him quietly in return.

Amanda passed her bouquet to Kim. Sonny took both of her hands in both of his and she immediately squeezed his fingers, like she was making sure he was real. Just being able to touch him, to be attached to his solidness, made Amanda slightly less anxious. Everybody's eyes were on them, but Amanda only cared about the one man before her.

"We are gathered here together in the presence of friends and family to celebrate one of life's greatest relationships – marriage," the officiant began as everyone quietly took their seats again. "Marriage is the celebration of one of life's greatest moments: to give recognition to the worth and beauty of love. Today, Dominick and Amanda, you have taken the initial step in what will be a wonderful and lasting life together."

"Understand that a union between two people takes work. Just as Rome wasn't built in a day, neither is a relationship ever complete. It needs constant nurturing. A good marriage is one that fosters respect, a devoted love and a willingness to make sacrifices for each other. These are the foundation blocks of a newly-formed union. Symbolically, you have been brought together as one, yet are still two separate entities with unique ideas, talents and ways of being. Respect and value those differences, and your relationship will flourish."

Looking over at Sonny, the J.P. asked, "Dominick, do you take Amanda be your lawful, wedded wife?"

"I do," Sonny said, looking Amanda in the eye.

"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her forevermore?"

Sonny nodded. "I do."

"Amanda," the J.P turned to her with a gentle smile. "Do you take Dominick to be your lawful, wedded husband?"

It was the easiest question she had ever been asked. For so many years Amanda had cringed at the mere thought of answering it, but now she couldn't get the reply out of her mouth fast enough: "I do."

"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him forevermore?"

"I do." She squeezed Sonny's fingers.

"Both Amanda and Dominick have chosen to write their own vows. Dominick will read his first," the officiant explained.

Releasing her hands, Sonny pulled a small card from the breast of his jacket. He cleared his throat, eyes flickering from what he had written to her face and back again. "Amanda: you are my best friend, confidant and my greatest support," he began. "Most importantly, you are the love of my life. You make me happier than I could ever imagine. Your strength, passion and resilience have made me a better person. I promise to be your partner in everything, to help shoulder our challenges, to take care of our family, to be faithful, honest... and to comfort you when the Braves lose."

Everyone chuckled, including Amanda, and he grinned. Expression serious again, Sonny continued, "I love you as you are now and who you've yet to become. I am truly blessed to be a part of your life, which as of today, becomes our life together."

Amanda's heart swelled in her chest, overwhelmed. She wanted to hold his hands again, to touch him, but she had something else to do first. The officiant handed Amanda the vows she had prepared and with trembling fingers, she took them. For somebody so intensely private, declaring her feelings for Sonny this way didn't come easily. But it had been her idea to do it, much to Sonny's surprise. She felt that it was important for everybody present to know how deeply her love ran for him, in her own words.

"Sonny: I feel like everything in my life has led me to you," Amanda started, voice quiet but audible. "My choices, my mistakes, everything. In a million different lifetimes, in any version of reality, I would choose you over and over again. You are my every hope and dream come true." She peered up at Sonny. He was smiling the sort of grin that he saved just for her. "I see these vows not as promises, but as privileges. It is a privilege to be loved by you." The emotion rising up into her throat cracked Amanda's voice. She could feel tears stinging her eyes, one escaping down her hot cheek. She hastily brushed it away and pulled in a shaky breath in an attempt to collect herself, then felt the warmth of a little body by her side: Jesse had moved from her spot by Kim to hug her mother's leg.

A rumble of adoring laughter came from the guests in response. Amanda didn't send her daughter away, she just smoothed a free hand over Jesse's hair. Somehow, continuing felt easier with her palm keeping her four-year-old close. With a sheepish smile, Amanda concluded, "I vow to have the patience that love demands, to listen to you and learn from you, to support you and accept your support. I vow to encourage and inspire you, in good times and in bad. With my whole heart, I love you unconditionally and without hesitation."

Looking up from her card at Sonny, he appeared as if he might cry, but in the happiest way possible. As Amanda handed her vows back to the J.P., Kim quietly tugged Jesse back to her rightful place.

"Let us now exchange rings."

Joe dug into the pocket of his jacket and passed over the rings - Amanda's a thin, yellow gold band, Sonny's thicker and brushed platinum - to the J.P., who then passed Amanda's to Sonny.

"Dominick, place the ring on Amanda's finger and please repeat after me: 'I give you this ring as a symbol of my commitment to you. It has no beginning and it has no end. May its presence on your hand always remind you of my eternal love.'"

Amanda held out her left hand, which was still trembling slightly. It was surreal listening to Sonny speak such meaningful words as he slipped the band atop the jewelry symbolizing their engagement; she had only just gotten used to seeing one ring there, let alone two.

The officiant turned to Amanda, handing her Sonny's wedding band. "Amanda, place the ring on Dominick's finger and please repeat after me: 'I give you this ring as a symbol of my commitment to you. It has no beginning and it has no end. May its presence on your hand always remind you of my eternal love.'"

She recited the words obediently, quietly, eyes on the ring she was sliding on Sonny's once-bare finger before their hands intertwined once more.

"Amanda and Dominick, may you live happily ever after," the J.P. concluded brightly. "May all of your days be blessed with love and friendship. May each day and night of your lives be a new beginning." He closed the book of notes he had been holding, pressing it to his chest as he declared, "by the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Amanda's arms circled Sonny's neck and his went around her waist. She wasn't sure how she kissed him properly wearing such a large smile, but she did it. Their lips met once, twice, three times, all of the friends and family who had gathered clapping and cheering, like the joy she shared with Sonny was theirs, too. Her hand in his as they walked back down the aisle, she caught sight of so many faces she loved: Luca contentedly oblivious in Audrey's lap, Sonny's parents and sisters crying, her own mother daintily wiping stray mascara away from beneath her eyes. Liv, Fin and Barba were grinning like they were proud. She couldn't see Kim, but she could hear her whistling enthusiastically.

Ushered back to the room she had originally been waiting in, Amanda kissed Sonny again. She clung to the lapels of his gray jacket, his larger hands covering her own. When she finally pulled away, he took one step back, their fingers still entwined. He eyed her hungrily, as if he had been starved for the sight of her.

"You look beautiful," he breathed.

She could feel herself blushing, filled to the brim with a kind of giddiness she had never experienced before. "Thank you. You look so handsome."

Sonny grinned. He closed the space between them again, palms sliding against the sleek material of her dress before he embraced her. "I love you so much."

"I love you," she whispered into the crook of his neck.

She was his wife and he was her husband. The hair on the back of Amanda's arms stood up with that simple realization, just as it had years ago when Sonny had told her, _'get a grip, Rollins. Maybe you're just nice to be around.'_

Sonny had chosen to be around her forever.

The very best part of it all was that Amanda had chosen him, too.

* * *

 **Another AN:** YOU GUYS! Thank you so so so SO much for reading all of this craziness! It means so much to me. Some of you know I'm a social worker in a pretty high-stress job, so writing is definitely part of what keeps me grounded. To know that my hobby is of any interest to anybody else - that's amazing! On another note, sometimes I suck at replying to messages but I have gotten **several** PMs over the past few days asking for more Declan drama. I could make a part 3... if people want it... I guess... ;-) Like I've said from the start: I could drag these two out forever, if there is interest! xox A


	38. Chapter 38

This isn't a chapter, oops! Just wanted to communicate with you guys.

First of all, thank you for your kind messages and reviews, I am **so** flattered by all of them! As a "writer" (I call myself that very loosely because... I'm not), it's so cool to know people are invested in the characters I depicted.

That being said, I'm torn as to how to continue!

 **Option 1, more Rollisi:** I didn't want to write more of them as a "part 3," because I liked the note this story ended on. I would, however, create another story if you're looking for Declan drama/married bliss/SVU intrigue, etc. It would pick up at their honeymoon 'cause that's cute.

 **Option 2, Rollaro:** Yes, you read that correctly. I'm kinda obsessed with their love/hate, and they are fun to write - if only for the angsty smut (shh, don't tell Sonny). It'd probably be based around one of my favorite episodes featuring the two of them.

 **Option 3, some random stuff I haven't even explored yet.** I'm definitely most comfortable writing in Amanda's voice but I could try Sonny? Eeep, that scares me!

What interests you guys? Help! Let me know in a review or message. :-)

xox A


	39. Chapter 39

Thank you for all of your reviews and messages! Ask and you shall receive: we'll be onboard the Rollisi ship a little while longer! You guys must've known I already had more written. ;-) I just posted a continuation of these two as a new story called 'In the Blood,' so check it out!

xox A


End file.
